Baby, It's You
by Shelbie's Whatchamacallit
Summary: Things go to hell faster than a car-full of drunk teenagers on prom night. Chibs/OC.   Because he's a badass. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: 'Sup all. Been a while since I posted anything, mostly due to being really distracted, what with finals and all. And then I started my summer work, which basically leaves me too dead-tired at the end of the day to do anything. But I'm all adjusted and what have you, and have been inspired by the show, The Sons of Anarchy. Hence this little tid-bit. It took me all of two episodes to decide I was smitten with Chibs, and shortly after, abandoned work on my other Boondock fic, (Again), and started in on this. Anyway, this is strictly a pilot chapter (hence the title), but as you may have guessed, it became rather successful. As a side note, this was originally called "Sex and Oranges", because it's my favorite line, but I listened to a song, by the same name, and was struck with the urge to re-title it. So I did. I think it suits it better. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: Pilot<strong>

Chibs had always had a thing about red hair. Probably just in the blood or some such thing, long history of red-headed Scottish women in his family and what have you, even if his wife had more or less broken that trend. That said, those lovely locks, not quite red, not quite brown, just touching her shoulders in a sexy, teasing fashion, were only the first thing that gave him a wicked hard-on for Claire Reinhardt that very first day she had all but dragged her Volkswagen Jetta, in desperate need of an oil change and the brakes about to go, into Teller-Marrow. She'd been too nervous to ask anybody for help. He remembered that well; rather than interrupt anyone, shy little Claire had stood patiently by the office door, and waited for someone to ask her what she needed, shuffling her feet the whole time.

Looking back, it seemed like he would have noticed her right away. However, as luck had put it, Jax had seen her first. The lad had a radar for pretty women. Or, they had a radar for him, as the case may be. Either way, Jax had sauntered on over to her, and asked her what was what.

The first time Chibs had seen her, moments after this, she'd been walking at Jax's side, pointing out the obvious damage to her car, and he had been instantly in lust. After the hair, his eyes had gone straight to the legs. Long and lovely, clad in fitted skinny jeans that ended in suede slouchy boots, showing off shapely thighs and calves, they were the second thing he'd become smitten with. They were fucking beautiful, and absolutely meant to go around his waist. He'd sidled over himself then, looking in to what the damage was for himself, though he'd been able to tell right away that it was just a classic lack of maintenance. He wouldn't let himself believe, even now, that he would have taken any excuse to get within five feet of the girl.

"-between the brakes and the transmission, it'll probably take a few days. Maybe a week if we end up having to replace the rotors too, we don't stock much for Volkswagen." Jax had been saying.

"Suppose I would have had better luck if I had a Harley, huh?" She had glanced around the garage with a sort of neutral interest, holding her eyes on Chibs for a moment longer than the rest of the scenery, likely because he was walking towards them. She turned her head back to Jax. "But I hear you guys are the best, so I thought it'd be in my best interest to come here."

"Good call girly. Though I don't think yer little Jetta would've made it much further anyway," Chibs added in.

She shuffled, looking embarrassed. "I know. I haven't been taking care of it. I've been distracted, moving and stuff. This is my first week in Charming."

There was a look exchanged, Chibs and Jax having more or less the same thought. New girl in town meant the ground rules would have to be laid out, _before_ she got into any trouble. And though she didn't seem the sort into drugs or hooking, and Chibs had no doubt Hale would jump the gun for little miss girl-next-door-beauty, she should know where to turn in the event she needed some real help. For now though, they would just fix her car, no need to drop things like SAMCRO on a body when they hadn't even unpacked yet.

"Alright, well, fact of the matter is, you'll have to leave the car with us for a couple days, so why don't you head into the office, fill out some paperwork with Gemma and drop off your keys?" Jax decided, "Have you got a way home or do you need a ride?"

"It's alright. I'll manage." She nodded, Jax pointing her back in the direction of the office.

"She's not half bad." The blonde said, once she was out of ear shot.

"Half bad? Open yer eyes Jackie-boy. I mean, I know yer all about Doc, but that girl'd have any red-blooded fella panting."

"You sound like you're interested Chibs," Jax grinned. "You thinking of propositioning the poor girl before she's even settled?"

"I ain't thinking. It's decided. Course, ya make a valid point, and seeing as I'm a gentleman, I'll wait till she's at least got her bedroom unpacked."

Jax laughed. "Alright, just make sure you don't scare her into suing us man. We can't afford the lawyer."

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><p>Two days later, Chibs ran into the minx at the market. Partially because he didn't like his beer supply getting below a certain amount, and partially because he'd seen that mane of mahogany-colored hair make it's stunning entrance. He hadn't followed her, per say, but that store had suddenly looked like the best choice. So, he'd parked his bike and made his way to the coolers in the back, running almost directly into her as he cut through the bread aisle. Same legs, different jeans, these looser with a hole in the knee, but the same boots and a tank-top that made him notice cleavage that had been hidden in a button-up during their previous meeting, as well as a tattoo following her clavicle, just peeking out around the fabric of her tank-top. He couldn't see enough to guess what it was, but the fact that quiet Miss Claire had a tattoo at all made him guess that she wasn't as reserved as she seemed. The thought that she had a wild side buried in there somewhere had his jeans suddenly feeling snug.<p>

At first, she gave him the look most people gave someone strutting through a store in leather and sunglasses, amber-brown eyes zeroing in on him with a hint of scrutiny, but then, evidently remembering him, a shy smile graced her lips. "Hi."

"Hi yerself." He nodded his head to her. "How's Charming treating ya so far?"

She shot a tiny, almost unnoticeable glare at the bagels before her. "So far you're the only person who has said 'hi' back to me."

"Curse of a small town I'm afraid, sweetheart."

"Yeah, I guess." She sighed, grabbing a bag of blueberry bagels and adding them to her shopping basket. They were silent for a few moments. It took him until he'd unconsciously followed her to the produce to realize he probably seemed pretty creepy.

"How have you been getting along without your car?" Chibs piped up, hoping to re-break the ice.

"Okay I guess. I've got a bike, I mean, a bicycle, not a motorcycle, so that's been working out okay."

"If ya don't mind me asking, where do you live?"

"I mind."

"I don't want to stalk ya, sweetheart. I'm just curious how far yu've got to carry all those groceries, and how you'll get them all in a bike basket."

She went totally tense for a moment, her hand pausing in midair with a tomato. He wondered vaguely if she planned to throw it at him, not believing that he wasn't planning to follow her home. But then she huffed in an agitated fashion. "Damn. I didn't even think of that, I don't even have a basket. I live out on Westerfeld Road."

Chibs' eyebrows shot up behind his sunglasses. "Ya biked five miles into town? For groceries? Shit, if ya lived that far out, why didn't you ask for a ride from the garage?"

"I didn't want to bother anyone." She shrugged, "It was a nice walk. Guess I'll just take the bagels then. That's probably all I can manage without killing myself..." She set the tomato back in the produce stand. Chibs picked it back up and put it in her basket again.

"A girl needs food, 'specially considering yer just moving in. Tell ya what, if ya buy my beer I'll give ya a lift. Fair trade right?"

"On your motorcycle?"

"Well, I certainly don't plan to carry ya there." He grinned, but she was chewing her lower lip when she glanced at him.

"I've never ridden before." She admitted quietly.

"Nothing to it. Ya just hang on to me. Cross me heart, yu'll live." He raised an index finger to draw a little X over his chest.

"Are you sure? It's pretty out of the way, isn't it? And it's not like you've got much more room, right?"

"If ya keep making excuses, I might think ya don't like me."

"I don't even know you." She seemed indignant.

"I'm Chibs."

"Excuse me?"

"The name's Chibs."

"Your parents named you that?"

"Course not. It's a nickname of sorts."

"Is there a story?"

"For another time sweetheart. It's a long one. But, ya tell me yer name, and we can say we know each other, and then it'll be a non-issue."

She glanced back at the rack of tomatoes in front of her, then turned back to him, with the same shy smile as before. "I'm Claire."

"Pretty. Suits ya," Chibs said, sticking a hand out to her. She complied, hand vanishing into his gloved fingers. "What else do ya need?" He nodded to her grocery basket.

"Not much. Maybe a couple frozen dinners until they get my wiring all checked out..." Claire shrugged, sounding unsure.

"Freezers are this way." Chibs reached to set a hand on her lower back and lead her, and Claire didn't seem to mind. A little thrill went through his system when she didn't step away. Their close proximity gave him a tantalizing whiff of whatever perfume she was wearing, a perfect blend of musk and citrus. It made Chibs think of sex and oranges. He was going to love having her glued to him on the road, no matter how short a trip it may be. Not only that, he could help her out a bit in terms of getting along in Charming with this little outing. All folks in the immediate area were naturally a bit put off by outsiders, as he'd said, the curse in a small town. But if they knew she was alright with the Sons, which they would, seeing one escorting her through the grocery store, then they'd be more accepting.

"So, uhm...Chibs?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"First, please don't call me 'sweetheart', I'm not entirely comfortable with it. Secondly, is it common policy for the local thugs to escort the new girl in town around here?"

"Thugs? We're not thugs lovely. We're just a group of mechanics who like Motorcycles."

"Isn't that what they all say?"

"I donno. Like I told ya, we're not thugs." He stepped around her to pull the standing freezer door open, gesturing to the small array of frozen meals inside. "Besides, I think yu'll find we're pretty well-liked around here."

"Town heroes or something?"

"If ya want to be grand about it, sure."

"Alright then. I suppose there are worse people I could associate with." She ducked her head into the freezer, selecting two of the dinners, both of the low-calorie variety Chibs noticed, and dropped them into her basket. "Are you sure about this? The ride I mean. Isn't it going to be a huge inconvenience taking a stranded girl and all her groceries home on a motorcycle?"

"Not to worry sweetheart. Er, sorry. Would ya prefer Claire?" He quickly amended when she gave him a look that seemed strangely offended.

"Yeah. Claire is fine." She smiled at him, a real one, not the shy, unsure ones from earlier. It about knocked Chibs off his feet. She was just so damn pretty, and not in the way that had him thinking a quickie in the back room. More in the way that made him want to do nothing but look at her for as long as he could, like a Madonna. Damn, when was the last time a girl had done this to him? Right. He'd wound up married to her. Maybe this was dangerous territory he was in, but he found it hard to care. Besides, he'd already promised her a ride, and Chibs Telford was nothing if not a man of his word.

They made it to the cooler for Chibs to get his beer, having a halting conversation as they went. Claire wasn't the sort that shot the shit, he learned that quickly. She said what she thought, and that was that. He found it admirable, the way she made herself clear. Even if she was a tad shy.

Ten minutes later, after fighting their way through a queue with a particularly grouchy woman who insisted a two months expired coupon was still good, the mismatched pair were in the parking lot, Chibs attempting to stuff her produce into the saddle bags on his bike, without somehow squashing the tomato. He had only successfully gotten his beer in place by taking it out of the cardboard carrier and balancing the bottles on top of the food stuffs. Now it was a matter of fitting the tomato safely in between the bottles.

"All set." He announced, snapping the flap into place, and straightening to look over at Claire, who had taken a position in the empty parking space next to his, her arms crossed in a fashion that he was beginning to recognize as defensive. "Come on now, I promise ya won't get hurt."

"But I've never even been on one of these things."

"Luckily, I've been on 'em every day of my life since I was a kid. Here." He held his helmet out towards her, to which she gave him a skeptical look, not reaching for it. "I've only got the one, and I'd prefer that ya wear it, just to be safe."

"Will you be okay without it?" Her fingers left their place, hidden under her arm, to reach hesitantly for the proffered helmet.

Chibs felt a smile curling his lips. "I'm touched yer worried, but I'll not have ya riding without a helmet, considering it's yer first time and all."

"Hmph. And here my mother always told me chivalry was dead." Claire stepped back towards him, gingerly taking the helmet from Chibs' hand. "Even if that could have easily been made a sexual joke, I'm going to pretend like you were just being polite."

"Nothing but sweetheart."

She gave him an eyeroll, but let the pet-name go, sliding the black plastic over her silky hair. He reached over to fasten and tighten it for her, and then gave a grand arm-sweep, inviting her to board the bike. And damned if there was no better sight than a beautiful woman straddling a motorcycle. He had a feeling concentration would be difficult.

Chibs swung himself into place in front of her, conscious of the fact that Claire made sure there was as much space as possible between them. Which, on a motorcycle, amounted to about an inch, maybe two.

"So I'm just supposed to hang on to you?" Her voice was nearly drowned out when he started the engine.

"Less ya want to fall, yeah, that's the general idea." In response, he felt her hands tentatively at his sides. She was lucky he wasn't ticklish. Chibs let the bike roll two feet, and her tune changed immediately. She was suddenly pressed flat against his back with her arms clenched around his middle so tightly he actually thought he might have trouble taking a deep breath.

"Sorry." She sounded embarrassed, her breath brushing his ear. "Like I said, never done this before."

"Well hell Claire, ya need to get a little adventure in yer life sometime," Chibs said, trying to ignore the fact her could feel just how soft she was, even through layers of clothing as he turned his head to evaluate her. The whispering in his ear thing certainly wasn't helping matters. "Would ya prefer I call someone?" The idea wasn't his favorite, but if it honestly made her more comfortable, Chibs was willing to swallow his pride on the matter.

She gave him a somewhat-forced smile. "No, that's okay. You're the only person I actually know anyway. I'll be fine. Just uhm...don't go too fast, okay?"

He could have pointed out that he hadn't even take his feet off the ground all the way a moment ago, but decided against it. That might have her deciding she'd rather hike.

* * *

><p>It took Claire a good ten minutes before she was willing to open her eyes and see the world rushing by with no glass or metal separating her from the scenery. The wind blinded her, making her eyes water, but she soon figured out tilting her head down to shield her eyes behind Chibs' shoulder made for an effective wind block. Part of her was still unsure about this. Without that disarming smile of his, she'd bet Chibs was damned intimidating. Leather and tattoos, sunglasses hiding his eyes both of the times she had seen him, and those scars marking both sides of his face. She didn't even want to think how he'd gotten them. Not to mention she didn't really know his name, or anything else about him for that matter; she just had a wild guess that he was Irish or Scottish. That is, if her ear for accents was any good. But, scary appearance or not, she found him appealing at the same time. Chibs was laid-back, animated, and funny, and she had always found tattoos and accents attractive, though he was the first where she'd been lucky enough to find these two qualities blended together; not that she'd have any room to judge people with tattoos anyway, she had plenty of her own. Also, if she was going to be totally honest with herself, the scars intrigued her more than they scared her. And biker or no, she didn't know a whole lot of people who would go so out of their way for someone they didn't really know, without the promise of compensation. She'd never been very good at reading people, but she got the feeling that Chibs was a man she could trust. Even now, astride a very dangerous machine, she felt unreasonably safe, so long as she didn't allow any air to get between them anyway.<p>

"Y'okay?" Chibs shouted over his shoulder, probably noticing her trying to block her face from the harsh wind.

"Yeah, I'm good," She shouted back, unsure of whether she'd actually been loud enough for him to hear. When he didn't ask again, she figured he must have.

He guided the motorcycle around and between the pot holes on Westerfeld Road with practiced expertise, as though he rode through them every day. Maybe he did. His 'just mechanics who like motorcycles' shpeal had fallen a little short of convincing. Maybe he and his biker friends just went around patrolling Charming and its surrounding rural communities on a regular basis, and he knew all the roads this well.

"Where's yer place?"

"A little further. It's just passed the big sign for Redwood Estates."

Really, you might say the single two-bedroom one bathroom house _was_ Redwood Estates. It sat awkwardly on the edge of several empty lots, with only a single large cedar tree for company, overgrown grass sprawling for several acres on either side, which then vanished into the local forestry. One strip of asphalt went by the short driveway, ending about five hundred feet beyond her porch in what would have been the cul-de-sac of the subdivision her house was once meant to be a part of. When she had asked her realtor why it had never been finished, his only explanation was that local law allowed for only the single house to be built in the area, leaving the cleared out lots to go feral again, despite all the work that must have gone into flattening them. She didn't mind though. She had privacy, the shade of the giant cedar, and was well out of the way of any trouble, should it ever come to town. But considering the most threatening thing she'd seen so far was Chibs, she figured the chances of that were pretty slim. He didn't seem all that dangerous, at least, not to her. But she got the impression no one would dare stop him if he felt the need to beat the hell out of someone. She'd just have to stay on his good side.

The bike arced elegantly into the driveway, Chibs sliding to a stop a mere foot from the steps leading up to the small porch, complete with a swing that had been bolted in by the contractors. She had yet to sit in it, not sure whether she really cared for it. It seemed too...old lady-ish.

"Welcome home," Chibs said, looking over his shoulder to smile at her. She realized then that though the bike had come to a full stop, and he had cut the engine, she was still plastered against him like a second skin.

"Sorry." She let go so quickly she almost lost her balance, blushing vibrantly. He seemed impervious to her less-than graceful behavior, holding her arm to steady her until she was safely back on her own two feet. He followed suit, even though she was handing the helmet back, figuring he'd take off as soon as she got her food. However, it seemed he was planning to stick around, dangling the protective gear from the handlebars. Chibs fished his beer out so she could get to the plastic bags underneath, gathering the produce he had balanced on top, and then the two of them stood awkwardly in the driveway. She was looking at her feet, unsure what he was waiting for, being too nervous to look him in the eye and not sure what to expect.

"Ya gonna need a ride to work in the morning?"

"What?" She glanced up, stunned. She hadn't been expecting such a question. It almost seemed too friendly.

"Ya still don't have a car, and yer bike is still in town. If ya need to get to work, I can come 'round and collect ya. I'll bring the truck though, so ya don't have to worry about any rumors calling ya a biker chick." He grinned at the last phrase.

"Oh. No. I uh, I don't have one yet. I was looking when my car went kaput. Don't worry about it, I can hold my own until the Jetta is fixed." She smiled, touched at his concern for not only her job-security, but knowing how it would look getting dropped off to a job on the back of a motorcycle. On the other hand, that didn't seem to be a huge issue in Charming. "So...It's getting kind of late-" She began again, after a mild silence, but Chibs only raised his hands, as though she had shouted at him.

"Alright. Hint taken. I'll leave ya be."

He turned back to his bike, and Claire could only gawk. That wasn't what she had wanted to imply at all. How could he think she'd just send him off without even offering him dinner after all that he had done for her today?

"No, Chibs, that's not what I meant." Surprising herself at her daring, Claire practically leaped from her porch steps to hook her free hand around his elbow, plastic bags flying around in the other. "I wanted to ask if you wanted some dinner. It _is _getting kind of late, like, dinnertime late. So I thought I could at least offer you that after you went so far out your way. Though, I can kind of admit frozen dinners aren't really much, but I don't have anything but the microwave working..."

He just sort of stared at her for a minute, or she thought he must be; it was hard to tell, what with the sunglasses and all, before a pleased sort of smirk crossed his face.

"In my experience," Chibs began, turning so that her arm was linked with his, a pair of beers hooked in his fingers, "-nothing tastes bad with good company."

"You're chronically charming, you know that Chibs?" She asked, unable to suppress the smile winding its way around her lips. She pried open the screen door, nearly brand new and unwilling to move already, digging her keys out of the pocket of her jeans. Two locks had been installed on the house when she'd bought it, the third she had added, just to be safe.

"Pretty heavy hardware," Chibs observed. "What are ya trying to keep out?"

"A whole army of crazy ex-lovers," She informed, biting back a laugh at the very idea. "No, I just like my privacy, that's all. And I used to live in a pretty big city, so it's sort of a habit to have good locks."

"Where from?"

"Oregon. Portland area. It's not bad for the most part, but there are some crazies that come out at night."

"Can I ask what brought ya all the way to California?"

"My family."

"Ya got family here?"

"No. I wanted to get away from them. I figure almost two states between us should be enough to keep them out of my hair."

"Ah." Was all Chibs offered in response. She was honestly glad he pressed no further, she didn't like getting into the complicated family dynamics. Especially the way they had been just before she left.

She led him through the den, where the movers had stacked all the boxes from her move. They had arrived almost a full day ahead of her, and by the time she had gotten here, they had mostly already unloaded the truck, and she hadn't the heart to ask them to move the boxes again. She was going to have to go through them one at a time and figuring out which room she wanted to be what. All she had set up so far was her bed and her clothes, the bed only having a single fleece blanket, her sheets still buried in the mess somewhere. She and Chibs wove through the maze to the kitchen, where she had to move a stack of books from the table to the counter to make any sort of room for him.

"Sorry about the mess. I wasn't exactly expecting...well, anybody actually."

"No complaints here." He shrugged, and took the seat she had cleared for him. To her almost-surprise, Chibs finally removed his sunglasses, setting them on the table, before promptly popping the cap off his beer bottle using the edge of the table. He sat the other at the seat across from him, apparently meant for her. She didn't really know what she had been expecting him to be hiding behind the shades, but for some reason, it surprised her to see how he looked without them. His dark eyes were much softer than she had thought they would be. He looked...older, but not old. More like he had seen a lot more than most people could tolerate. Then again, she reminded herself, she wasn't the greatest at reading people. For all she knew, Chibs was just tired. She didn't really have a guess how old he really was anyway, so she'd best not make any judgments.

Claire busied herself with the microwave, the one of the two working appliances she had found so far in the house. The oven's wiring was all wonky, cords crossed where they shouldn't be, and the realtor had warned her not to use it until they fixed it, for fear of lighting her house on fire, and the fridge had never been connected in the first place. She was still working on figuring that one out. But the microwave and dishwasher worked just fine, as far as she could tell.

"Would you prefer marinara chicken or pesto chicken?"

"Both sound like hippy foods to me."

She smiled. "Marinara is like spaghetti sauce. You can have that one."

"Deal." He returned her smile, though his eyes were wandering around the kitchen. "Y'know, I've always wondered what the inside of this house looked like."

"Were you looking into buying it?"

"Nothing like that. I just remember when they were trying to build this, and nobody wanted it here. Didn't turn out half bad, considering all the angry townfolk throwing petitions at it. I didn't think they'd ever even get it finished"

"Yeah, they mentioned that when I bought it. That's why there's only one. I guess this was supposed to be an urban development site or something, but they couldn't finish it. Some kind of local law I think."

"In a manner of speaking," Chibs snorted. She wasn't sure what to make of that, so she let it go.

"Do you think anybody will give me trouble about it?"

"Nah, yer fine. They just didn't want a subdivision is all. Too many people. And it woulda ruined the town's whole image."

"You sound like you were one of the people who signed." She observed mildly. Chibs' mouth quirked up on the left side, making the scar stand out sharply.

"That was before I knew such a pretty girl would be living in it."

She just shrugged away the forming flush in her cheeks, unable to tell whether he was just being Chibs, or he was flirting with her. She wasn't opposed either way. He was the only person she knew in the entire town, and it was nice to know he was willing to be her friend. Or more. She liked that idea too. Which was odd, seeing as she'd just met him. He was just so likable.

"Here." She brought the two plastic trays and salvaged forks to the table, sitting opposite Chibs, and trying to figure out how he'd opened the beer on the table, fiddling with the cap on the table-edge. She looked up to see him watching her with a look that said he was trying very hard not to laugh. "How'd you do that?"

"Gimme that. There's a trick to it." He reached across the table and pulled the bottle from her hand, snapping it off as easily as he had his own, handing it back. "I'll teach ya sometime."

"Helpful trick to know."

Chibs nodded, spearing a noodle on his fork, and popping it in his mouth. "Hey, for being cooked in a microwave, this isn't half-bad."

"Yeah, I'm a terrible freaking cook, so I managed to find some of the better ones, after much taste testing."

"Well, thank heaven ya didn't offer to cook fer me then." Chibs grinned. He glanced around the cluttered kitchen again. "What made ya pick Charming of all places?"

"I dunno. Luck really. I was actually looking at a place in Monterey, but I saw the ad for this on my way back. I guess the idea of living in a small town sounded really nice, so I decided to buy this house instead."

"Just buying a house on a whim?"

"I guess you could say buying this house, specifically, was a whim; but I've always wanted a house of my own, I've been saving since I was sixteen. Planning my great escape I guess you could say." She drifted off, figuring there was no reason to unload her life story on Chibs. But he was quiet, took another bite, and seemed to be waiting for her to continue. "My family and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye," Claire finally offered, feeling weird with the silence. She picked at her food. "We never have. They had a whole plan for me, taking over the family business and all that shit. I never wanted that. So I worked a lot of long hours and saved enough money to buy myself a little house by the beach. But at the last minute, I decided this sounded better. And it cost about half as much. Suppose I thought it was fate."

"Well, who are we to argue with fate?"

"Yeah, that's kinda how I felt too." Claire smiled. "Okay, enough about me, can we talk about you now?"

"Suppose. Whaddya wanna know?" Chibs finished off his beer.

"For now, just if you're Irish or Scottish. I can't tell and I don't want to assume anything."

"Scottish. Did spend some time in Ireland though, mighta picked up a little of the accent." Chibs looked as though the thought had never really crossed his mind.

"What were you doing in Ireland?"

"This and that. Working mainly, odd jobs and things of that nature."

Similarly to the 'mechanics who like motorcycles' story, this fell a little flat of believable. But she didn't push. If it was something he wasn't supposed to have been doing, she would really rather just not know.

"That all ya wanted to know?"

"Well, I guess I was kind of curious whether you would ever tell me your real name."

"Maybe someday." He smirked, pushing himself out of the chair to rinse out the food tray and beer bottle setting them on the counter next to the sink. "But I think ya'd have to get to know me a little better first."

"I think I'd be okay with that."

"Glad to hear it." He nodded his agreement, and really seemed to mean it. Then Chibs glanced at the clock set in the microwave, which told them it was currently seven-thirty in the evening. "As much as I'd love to sit here and get an early start on that, I have things I gotta do. So I think I oughta take my leave."

"Alright." Claire acquiesced, not wanting to keep him from any business he had, despite this being her only real social interaction since leaving Oregon a week ago. She walked him to the door, mostly due to the fact she didn't want him to get lost in her living room box-maze, but stopped at the porch as Chibs hopped down the steps.

"We'll give ya a call when the Jetta is done, alright?"

"'Kay." Claire nodded, tucking her arms around her middle, the evening air having chilled quite a bit since the shadows had begun to lengthen.

"Oh, and I know I said ya wouldn't have any trouble, but I can't speak for everyone in town. If anyone tries to give ya shit, call this number and ask fer me, okay?" He pulled a creased and faded business card from his jeans pocket, it looked like it might have gone through the wash a time or two, but the number printed below "Teller-Marrow" was still legible.

"Couldn't I just call the police?"

"Well, ya could," Chibs said, snapping his helmet into place, "-but in Charming, we like to handle our problems ourselves."

Trying to ignore just how much that made it sound like a lot of illegal activity went on, Claire waved him off, standing on the porch until the roar of the engine faded into a distant rumble, before ceasing completely.

Chibs.

She still didn't know what to think of him.

* * *

><p><em>Conclusion: So...ta-da? This was basically just all introduction stuff. I sort of have it in my mind that this all goes on as a little side-plot to the show because, in my mind, Chibs doesn't get enough attention until he gets blown up. Anyway, this starts just before the first season starts, and it will (hopefully) get a little more romance and action as it moves on. I've always liked the classic Bad-boyGood-girl kind of pairings. That'll be the main theme. Also, I tried to write Chibs' accent in for awhile, but was half way through when I decided to do that, and ended up being too lazy to change it all. So...Just pretend he has a Scottish accent, okay? You know the drill from here. :) _


	2. Chapter 2

**Baby, It's You**

_Chit-Chat: Hey y'all. Back again with another chapter. It kinda lags there in the middle I think. I basically just really wanted to write the bit with Ben, so I kinda rushed through it. Okay, as to technical what-have-you, I don't know where Chibs lives (I feel like he lives in the dorms in the clubhouse, but I wasn't positive), but it's kind of irrelevant to this particular chapter, because I think either way, he'd be telling Claire the same story. That's about all I can think of, if you see any other technical problems, please PM and let me know. Also, keep in mind that I haven't seen season three. So I'll be keeping this strictly in seasons one and two for now. That's all. Carry on. :) _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Boundaries<strong>

Claire had figured the second time she ventured into Teller-Marrow, it would be a little less intimidating. Not the case. It wasn't that she was scared of bikers, far from it, especially after meeting Chibs. It was just that they all seemed so close. Everyone here was friends, and she felt horribly awkward not knowing anyone, feeling out of place and stand-offish. It didn't help that she was probably all sweaty and gross-looking from the long bike ride here, although she'd at least had the foresight to wear cut-offs and a pair of bright red converse, rather than her boots. What could she say, she was used to Oregon. Where it rained all the time.

Venturing forward, remembering only vaguely where the office was, Claire watched her feet as she walked, the last thing she wanted to do being trip and fall on her face, especially in front of all these strangers.

"Didn't think ya could sneak in here without saying hello, didja?" Claire nearly jumped out of her skin, following the sounds of a Scottish accent to find Chibs leaning on the office door frame, a smile plastered on his face, obviously having known he would startle her.

"I didn't see you. Sorry."

"Well, that's cuz ya were looking at yer feet," He pointed out.

"I didn't want to trip."

"There's nothing to trip over." Chibs pushed himself off the door frame. "I thought Jackie-boy told ya to come by at noon."

"Yeah, he did, but I got lost. Everything looks different biking than it does while you're driving. Uhm...were you waiting for me?"

"Course." He nodded as though it should have been obvious, turning around and striding into the office, figuring he intended her to follow, Claire tagged after him. "If yu'd made me wait any longer, I woulda had to come search for ya."

"Yeah...I'm still sort of a city girl at heart. Country roads confuse me," She confessed, momentarily sidetracked by the collection of Lingerie cut-outs on the office wall. She had failed to notice that the first time. Chibs was sorting through an enormous collection of keys arranged haphazardly on a cork board, evidently looking for hers. "Especially on a bike."

"Well, luckily ya get yer car back today."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Don't thank me, just pay me." He grinned. "Though, truth be told, I didn't do much work on it. German cars aren't my forte. Ya can still pay me if ya want though, I'm sure I could service ya some other way."

"Glad to know you have such a good work ethic," Claire jibed with a smile, knowing the flirty comment had her turning pink all over again, but she felt suddenly much more at ease. Chibs had a talent for that. It was strange, she had never seen herself as the friendly sort, actually, depending on who you asked, she was better considered anti-social. But that didn't seem to bother Chibs in the slightest, he had enough friendly in him for the both of them, and it always seemed as though he wasn't bothered by how incredibly awkward she was. Out of witty repertoire, Claire tried for some small talk. "Did you see that giant explosion last night?"

"Yeah." His tone was distinctly short.

"What do you think happened? Scared the shit out of me, it was pretty close to my house, all my windows were rattling."

"Propane tanks, or at least, that's what I heard."

"Huh. I thought that shit only happened in movies."

Out of nowhere, Chibs heaved an irritated sigh at the board. "Sorry, I don't know what the hell happened to yer keys. Sit tight for a sec, okay?"

"Okay." She nodded as he strode back out into the main part of the garage, shouting at somebody. Curious, but not invasive, Claire examined the other keys hanging on the board, trying to picture what kinds of people owned the cars and key chains.

"Can I help you?" For the second time that day, Claire felt her heart take a startled leap, this one significantly more severe, seeing as she didn't recognize the voice. "Oh wait, you're the blue Jetta right?"

"Yeah. Claire."

"Gemma. Did you get your keys?"

"No, uhm...Chibs just went to find them-" She offered, a finger pointing in the general direction he had gone a moment ago, not sure if he went by 'Chibs' in his place of work. Seeing as Gemma didn't bat an eye, she figured he must. "How much was it for all that?" She added, remembering that Gemma was the one in charge of such things. The older woman took a seat behind the desk, shuffling through a pile of papers in a basket labeled 'Finished', most likely looking for her receipt. Or just ignoring her. Claire couldn't tell which.

"I hear Chibs talked you into a ride," Gemma said abruptly, still sorting through the papers, not even looking up at her.

"Er...how do you know that?"

"I'm the den mother sweetie. I know everything." The narrowed eyes Gemma gave her with the sentence made Claire feel like she had committed some sort of carnal sin.

She was fucking scary. Somehow, Claire didn't think it was in her best interest to doubt that she really did know everything either. "Yeah. I was having a little trouble, so he took me home."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"What? No! Jesus, I barely just met him," Claire balked at the assumption, wondering if she gave off that sort of impression.

"What difference does that make?"

"I don't know why you think that, but I'm not that kind of girl. I did not sleep with Chibs. He gave me a ride home, we had a beer, and that was that." Gemma eyed her silently for a long moment, Claire wanted desperately to flinch under the other woman's probing gaze, but got the feeling it would be a very bad idea, so she stared back.

"Good. I didn't want him getting serious about a tart."

"Uhm...serious?"

"Just a thought. Don't take it to heart." Gemma pulled a form that read '2002 VW' from the pile with a flourish, and held it out to her. She gave Claire another up-and-down sort of look. "You're cute."

"Thanks?" Claire was completely unbalanced by all this. First, Gemma seemed to hate her, then she told her she was cute? How was she supposed to take all this? Hesitantly, she took the paper, expecting Gemma to pull it back at the last minute or something of the sort.

"We're having a party tonight. Are you doing anything?"

"Well...I have job interview at five..."

"Party's at nine, but it probably wont get to full-swing till at least eleven. Works out fine. It's in the clubhouse, so here, basically." Gemma gave her a smile, though Claire wasn't positive of how real it was. "Chibs would like it if you came."

"But, uhm-"

"Besides, it'll let you get out and get to know some people," Gemma prodded.

Claire thought of saying she'd rather not, but Chibs chose this time to return, brandishing her car key.

"Found it!" He announced unnecessarily, before stopping abruptly, as though the tension between the two women was visible. "Should I leave again?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Claire noticed it had been directed more to Gemma than her.

"No need, we're just finishing up." Gemma gave him a much more radiant smile than she had Claire, and turned to her again. "All totaled, it comes to about seven hundred. That going to work?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Claire tried to keep the wince in. Between all the repairing that had to be done on the house's electrical stuff still, and the down payment, this last seven hundred was going to leave a hefty bruise on her savings. She really hoped that job worked out. Not like she had a choice though, she needed her car. That decided, Claire handed over her debit card.

"Alright, it's all taken care of," Gemma nodded, giving the computer one last once-over. "And Claire, think about my invitation, okay?"

"Sure." And the moment Gemma had her back turned, Claire turned and headed for the door, wondering if she did show up whether her drinks would be free of poison. She got the impression she was already on Gemma's shit-list. And this was only the second time they had spoken.

"The hell did she say to ya?" She hadn't noticed Chibs was following her until he spoke.

"Nothing." She shook her head, not sure why she lied. She just did. After all, if Chibs wanted her at this party or whatever it was, then he would invite her himself, right? She'd see what he had to say, just out of curiosity. "Gemma is just...kind of scary."

"Ah, yeah. She is. But once she decides she likes ya, there's no one better to have on yer side. Chin up lovely, she's just feelin' ya out." He reached over to bump his thumb lightly under her jaw, as though expecting her to take his advice literally. She smiled, glad for the pep-talk. They continued their short walk to her car leisurely. Chibs clicked the button to unlock it, and pulled the door open for her, handing her the keys. "As far as we can tell, it's all back up to one hundred percent. But if ya have any trouble, you know who to call."

"Ghostbusters?"

"Cute," Chibs said, seeming genuinely amused, before falling slightly more serious again. "Hey, if Gemma gave ya any trouble, ya don't have to lie to me."

"Chibs, I don't want you to argue with Mama Bear because of me, okay?"

"Mama Bear?"

"Yeah. It's what people used to call my Mom after she scared off my first two boyfriends. Gemma was doing the same kind of thing. I guess she was worried I seduced you." Saying it aloud made it sound pretty ludicrous.

"I would have absolutely no problems with ya trying to seduce me."

"I know you wouldn't. But I'm not, so it's a moot point."

"Aw, Claire, yer breakin' me heart." He made a show of clutching at his chest. She laughed at his antics, and leaned around her car door to place a kiss on Chibs' cheek. He abruptly stopped his interpretation of a heart attack, seeming stunned. "What was that for?"

"For your broken heart."

"It's gonna take more than that." He actually looked a little hopeful.

"That's all you're getting. Go on, you've probably got some work you should be doing, and I have work I need to be getting."

"Where at?"

"Library." She smiled widely, happy at the thought. She had always wanted a nice, quiet job like that. "They were waiting for someone with a library science degree, I only have a bachelor in English, but the head librarian can't see all that well anymore, so she needed someone who could start right away and reorganize all the shelves."

"Y'know, I'm really starting to think there's some kinda higher power that put you here," Chibs said, sounding quite serious too.

"I haven't got the job yet." She reminded.

"Yu'll get it."

"You think?"

"Yep. Sexy librarian and what have ya. It's gotta happen or I'll have no reason to learn to read."

"That sounds like the plot to a porno," Claire laughed, flopping into the seat of her Jetta. She didn't want to admit that she had been stalling, but they were now just about out of things to say. And the party hadn't come up. Maybe it was all just Gemma's idea. If that were the case, she might as well go anyway, and actually meet some people, considering she planned to live here and all. Even if Mama Bear scared the living hell out of her. "So...I guess I'll see you around?"

"Hope so." Chibs nodded, hand on the door. "After all, ya gotta finish fixing my heart."

* * *

><p>When Gemma said party, she obviously meant: Party, with a capital P. Claire had been able to hear the music from blocks away, and once she was actually in the confines of the garageclubhouse itself, it was a whole new ball game of drinking, dope, and if her eyes did not deceive her, open displays of sex.

She was _really_ out of practice for this. The last time she'd attended anything close to this magnitude, she had been in the college dorms. Not only that, she didn't see a single familiar face, which her choices were pretty limited on, consisting of Chibs, Jax, or Gemma, and she was beginning to wonder if Gemma had intended her to be stranded with a bunch of drunk bikers. Or at the very least she was starting to think this was just an attempt to scare her away from Chibs. She didn't really know what she had done to get blacklisted already, but it seemed she was there.

Barely a foot in the gate, she decided it might be best to just pretend like she had never been here.

Turning on her heel, she very nearly ran headlong into Jax, who had also been leaving. He blinked for a moment, clearly not putting her face with a name for a second, before making a silent sort of 'ah ha'.

"Claire, right?" He smiled, but it looked tired and strained.

"Hi." She gave him an awkward wave. "Uhm...Gemma told me I should come to meet some people. But I think I missed my chance, no one is really sober enough for introductions."

"You got that right." Jax's smile still looked pretty pale. "There was a lotta shit that went wrong today, so Mom's not here. But, hey, don't let that stop you from partying a little bit."

"Oh," Was the only thing Claire could say for a moment. So maybe Gemma wasn't being as catty as she had first thought. Sounded serious from the tone of his voice. "No, I think I'll just go. I only wanted to come check it out really."

"Looking for Chibs?" Jax prodded with a knowing note to his voice.

"Er...yeah, I guess." She wondered if her rosy cheeks were visible in the dim light.

"Last I saw him, he was in at the bar. Say, Claire, can I ask you a favor?"

"What kind?" She questioned, surprised at this.

"Chibs has a bad habit of trying to drive drunk. I just want you to keep him off his bike, okay?"

"I can try, sure." Claire nodded, wondering why she had been entrusted with this task, but liking the idea that Jax trusted her to keep an eye on Chibs.

"Thanks, yer a doll," Jax said, his smile this time looking a little mischievous. He reached over and clapped her lightly on the shoulder. "For what it's worth, my Mom likes you. She was planning to make you some friends, really, but things got a little out of hand."

_Make me some friends? Like, pick them for me? _Claire wondered, after Jax had pointed her towards the door leading to the bar and continued on his walk, wherever he was going. She made a few undecided steps in the direction of the door, before coming to the conclusion that at the very least, she should do what Jax had asked her, and keep Chibs from killing himself.

Indoors, it was a little more tame. There was still riotous laughter, drinking, and yelling, but there didn't seem to be any fighting or semi-public sex-romps. Chibs was sitting, a little slumped, at the bar, and it was the first time she could say she had seen him look anything less than content.

"Chibs?" She ventured closer, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He spun around on the bar stool, reeling for a moment, a pretty sure sign he was drunk, and the recognition in his eyes lagged a bit.

"What are ya doin' here?" A slur combined with his accent made his English sound more like gibberish. But she got the general idea.

"Sorry. Gemma invited me. Uhm...I can leave..."

"No, no, not what I meant." He popped off the bar stool to grab her arm, swayed, and very nearly fell. "Just wa'n't expectin' ya, that's all. I wanted to give ya a crash course 'fore ya came to one'a these though."

"I'm thinking that might have been a good idea. But, too late now." She grabbed the arm not already hanging onto her, trying to keep Chibs on his feet. "I got my job."

"Tha's fuckin' great!" Chibs sounded more excited than she had expected, by a lot, and grabbed her in a bone-crushing hug, startling her too much to react, even if she had wanted to. "Toldja you were gonna get it. Hey, we need'ta celebrate. Ya want beer or whiskey?" He let go of her to turn, lean over the bar, and rummage behind the counter like he owned the place. Which she supposed he kind of did, seeing as he was part of the club, and this was the clubhouse.

"Uh, Chibs, I think you've had enough."

"I'm standin' ain't I?"

"Barely. Why don't you try some water?"

"Water's no good fer a toast." He scoffed, re-emerging from behind the counter with two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack. He managed to pour one, and handed it to her, pulling her arm until she sat at the bar next to him, but after several misses with the second, he gave up on the other shot glass, and raised the bottle to her. "Congratu-fuckin'-lations on a gettin' yerself a job Claire."

"Yeah...thanks." She smiled. Claire raised her glass and tossed it back, forgetting how long it had been since she'd had Jack Daniels and barely managing to get it all the way down. But she did, and once the burn had settled in her stomach, she realized how much she had missed straight whiskey. Chibs, on the other hand, was still drinking, the bottle tilted up to the point of nearly being vertical. The man clearly did not know when to stop. "Okay, Chibs, really, you're going to get sick if you keep that up." She stood up quickly, and more or less wrestled the whiskey from his hands before he unwittingly drank the whole bottle, setting it on the counter, she hoped, well out out of his reach. He stared at her for a long moment, before frowning. "What?" She questioned, fidgeting nervously, wondering if he was the type to get angry for no reason while he was drunk. He hooked his fingers in the belt loops on her jeans, pulling her between his knees and staring up at her.

"Yer really fuckin' beautiful, ya know that?" He asked, hands spanning over her hips.

"Why are you frowning?" She brushed the compliment off, unsure of what to say to it. There was a tingling in her spine, starting where Chibs' hands were, and traveling all the way up to her scalp. Part of her wanted to step away, and part of her wanted his hands in all sorts of other places. Not sure which was the better idea, she stayed still.

"Cuz there're other people lookin' at ya, and I don't like it."

"You're drunk Chibs."

"That don't mean a thing."

"It means you're just saying that. We barely know each other, there's no reason for you to be getting jealous. Listen, you've had a lot to drink, why don't you let me take you home?"

"Yer house?" He persuaded, fingers sliding just a little farther back.

"No. I'm going to take you home, and then I'm going home and going to bed. Alone." She transplanted his hands from her ass back to his own lap, and Chibs looked like he had just been told Christmas was canceled. "Come on," Claire encouraged, waving for him to stand up, "-we'll talk about this again some other time. I promise."

"Better be soon, or I'm gonna start climbin' fuckin' walls." Chibs complied, pulling himself off his bar stool and stumbling towards her. Thinking the better of letting him walk alone, she took his arm to steady him. Chibs pulled away, and for a moment she worried he was angry at her, but he convinced her otherwise, slinging the arm around her shoulders. Something about it felt right.

"Where do you live?" She asked, suddenly realizing she hadn't the faintest clue, and even if she did know where he lived, she probably wouldn't know how to get there. Chibs swayed against her as they walked, and she was not impervious to the looks they were getting. Even if she didn't take him home, she was sure rumors would be saying otherwise. Claire was relieved when they were outside again, walking down the sidewalk to her car, away from prying eyes.

"I don't think I could give ya decent directions," He said, and she could hear the canary-eating-grin in his voice.

"Chibs-"

"Honest to god." He raised the hand not clasped on her shoulder, "D'ya really wanna take directions from me right now?"

"Well, I guess not...but what am I supposed to do with you?"

"Y'know what I think?" He asked, head lolling to the side, his cheek pressed against her hair.

"Chibs..." She said again, but he only looked straight ahead with a neutral expression. "Fine. No, I don't know. What do you think?"

"I think I should just go home with ya."

"But I...Chibs, it really isn't a good idea."

"What, don't trust me to keep my hands to myself?"

"No, but-"

"I'll sleep on the floor and I'll be a good boy. Promise. Otherwise, ya might as well just turn 'round and dump me back at the bar so I can finish my bottle'a Jack."

If she didn't know any better, she would say that Jax had been setting this up for her. He probably had known Chibs would make a ploy similar to this, and had also known she wouldn't risk turning him loose again. Blondie was sneaky. But, a promise was a promise, and at least at her house, she could keep an eye on him until he sobered up.

"Alright, alright, you can come home with me. But just for tonight, and only to sleep. That's all. Understand?"

"Yep." And if he didn't look just pleased as punch about it too.

True to his word, Chibs more or less fell on the couch the moment he was close enough. He didn't seem to be totally gone yet, but it was pretty clear he had no plans to move. Supposing she might as well make him comfy, Claire brought him a glass of water from the kitchen, and sat on the edge of the couch, trying to maneuver Chibs' arms from his vest.

"Thought ya said I hadda sleep." He scrubbed a hand down his face.

"You do. But I'm not so mean that I'll make you sleep in your vest and boots."

"S'called a cut sweetheart."

"A cut?"

"Uh-huh." He sat up enough for her to pull the leather off of him. "I wanna ask ya something."

"Okay," Claire nodded, hanging the 'cut', as she now knew it to be called, over the back of the couch. She moved down the cushions, so she could start unlacing his boots.

"D'ya even like me?"

She paused, turning to look at him, question in her eyes. He seemed serious. "Of course I do. I like you a lot Chibs."

"So why don't ya want me getting jealous over ya?"

"I didn't want to start trouble, that's all." She shrugged, setting the boots on the floor. She stood up and dug through one of the boxes still scattered around the room, finding a black afghan her grandmother had knit for her years ago.

"It woulda been me starting it." He pointed out.

"I didn't want you starting any either, least of all over me." Claire said, draping the afghan over him. "I'll go get you a pillow, okay?"

"Yer too modest, ya know that?" He called after her as she left to retrieve her spare pillow, "There were half a dozen guys in there willin' to put up a fight for ya."

"Well, I didn't bring half a dozen guys home, did I? Do you want me to take your belt off?"

"Don't start something ya don't intend to finish."

Her face went hot in three seconds flat, and by the grin on Chibs' face, she would guess that had been his intent. "Go to sleep Chibs." She stood and took a few steps away from the couch, just to make sure they both knew there were still boundaries.

"No good night kiss?"

"I should have known better than to think you could be serious for more than five minutes."

"I am being serious."

"Good night Chibs." And with that firmly said, Claire all but ran from the room.

Not because she was worried about what Chibs would do, more because she was worried about what she would do. Like join him on the couch.

* * *

><p>At first, Chibs couldn't remember where he was. When he finally did, recognizing the smell of her perfume, he realized he was going to be in deep shit if he didn't get his ass on the move. Claire shifted around in her sleep, sighing lightly, and by some virtue of good fortune, was still in a deep enough sleep to not notice he was spooning her. He didn't remember what had possessed him to get in bed with her, but here he was. Now he just had to figure out how to get back out of the bed without waking her up.<p>

Very gingerly, Chibs removed his hands from her, which took no small effort, seeing as all he'd wanted to do the last few hours was get his hands on her. One of his traitorous limbs had snaked its way under her cotton t-shirt, just barely brushing the swell of her breast, and it took all his willpower to inch it back out of her shirt, rather than reach up those last few centimeters and cop a feel. The other she was laying on, his hand going a little numb. Chibs very slowly scooted her to one side, enough to free his hand, praying that she slept long enough for him get out of her bed, take a freezing shower, go back to the couch, and try to forget what her skin felt like.

No such luck. She was awake.

For a second, neither of them reacted. She blinked the sleep from her amber eyes, staring at him as though he wasn't actually there, and then, when she realized he was, she sprang from the sheets, throwing a pillow at him as she went.

"Chibs!"

"I-"

"What were you doing?" She demanded, her face crimson as she tried to shrink herself down, probably trying to make the t-shirt she had been sleeping in cover more. It wasn't really working.

"Just sleeping, I swear." He raised his hands in a sign of surrender, backing off to the other side of the room. "I was still drunk. I'm sorry."

She stared at him, and Chibs thought that maybe his apology, albeit a pretty pathetic one, even by his standards, was just going to be ignored. Without another word, Claire turned and left the room, sweeping up a pair of jeans from a box as she went, and stepping into them as she walked.

"Damn..." Chibs groaned, realizing what a deep hole he'd managed to dig himself into in a matter of seconds. He had no idea whether he should even try to talk to her, but he followed her out of the room anyway. He had very little experience with actually spending mornings with women, other than Fiona, and she was about as different from Claire as he was from the Pope. He ventured into the kitchen, where he could hear Claire moving around, and knocked on the door jamb. "Claire?"

"You promised you were going to stay on the couch."

"I know. Listen, I didn't mean anything by it, I don't even remember getting up."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I...I don't know. What are you so angry about? You have a thing about sex?"

"A _thing_? No Chibs, I do not have a 'thing' about sex. What I have a thing about is a drunk guy crawling into bed with me and groping me in my sleep."

"I was not gropin' ya. I was..." He trailed off, none of the words coming to mind sounding any better. She heaved a deep sigh.

"You want coffee?"

"Uh...sure."

Claire busied herself with the coffee pot on the counter, keeping her back stubbornly turned to him. "I'm not really angry." She said after a moment of nothing but the hissing of the appliance on the counter between them. "I was just...a little freaked out."

"Would it have been different if I wasn't shitfaced?"

"Maybe." She turned to sit at the table, two mugs of coffee in her hands, and gestured for him to sit with her. He did. "But it doesn't really matter now. And like I told Gemma, I'm not the kind of girl who's going to jump into bed with someone just because I want to. Okay?"

"Alright. I can respect that." He looked at his coffee. Not to say he knew how long he could live with it. He had a serious itch that no one but Claire was going to scratch, and he knew that. He really would be climbing walls soon.

It was safe to say Chibs hadn't really felt this kind of twinge in a long, long time. Probably not since he'd been in the states. He didn't make efforts to get involved with women, it kept things from getting complicated, and it kept his hand from becoming his best friend. His love life, as one might call it, was a string of one-night stands with the overarching shadow of his wife looming over his indiscretions, such as they were; even if his feelings for Fiona had changed quite a bit over the years. He would have to tell Claire about her soon, he knew. But he didn't want to, not sure what she would say or do when she found out he was technically still married. He didn't want just an affair with her, and that was the part that kept jamming him up. One night wouldn't be enough. Sex wouldn't be enough. He didn't know what it was about her, but something about Claire made him want some kind of companionship from her.

Or maybe he was just getting too old to be rolling around with MC working girls all the time.

Chibs was pulled from his reverie by a knock at the door, which had Claire startled to the point of nearly spilling her coffee.

"I take it ya weren't expecting anyone?"

"Not this early." Her lips pulled down in a frown, Claire pushed her chair back and walked to the front door, peeking through one of the heavily curtained windows on either side. "Oh shit..."

"What's the matter?" Chibs was across the floor in a matter of steps, aiming to lean around her and see who it was, but Claire pulled the curtain shut again before he could.

"Wait here. Just...let me talk to him, okay?"

Him? That jealous sting from last night was back. This one multiplied by the fact whoever the asshole was had shown up at her house at nine o'clock in the morning. Claire didn't seem to notice his scowl as she slipped on flip-flops, undid her triple-layer locks, and slid around the door. He could hear a male voice starting up without even saying hello. He already didn't like this guy.

Chibs pulled the curtain back carefully, wanting to see what was going on before he decided whether it was worth his effort to get involved, and at first only saw Claire's back, her arms crossed in that tell-tale way, but she stepped aside after a moment, pacing the porch, and he got his look at the guy. His first thought was trust-fund baby. He was blonde, blue-eyed, and groomed to perfection, dry-cleaned jeans and a black t-shirt didn't quite erase the stench of daddy's money. Chibs' eyes traveled to the driveway, where a Lexus was parked next to Claire's Jetta. Yeah, definite rich boy. His saving grace was that Claire didn't seem happy to see him, quite the opposite in fact, pointing him back towards his car with a frown on her face. About the time Rich-boy stepped toward Claire, grabbing a hold of her arm, Chibs decided he had seen enough for getting involved to be worth his while.

He pulled open the door and stepped outside, the light doing no favors for his hangover, but he wasn't about to let a little head pain stop him. Rich-boy dropped Claire's arm instantly.

"Who's the visitor sweetheart?" Chibs took up a spot beside Claire, sliding his arm around her middle, more to make sure he could pull her away quickly if the situation escalated and made it necessary than to put on a show. Didn't hurt that his close proximity made Rich-boy glower though. He rubbed it in, pulling her against his side snugly.

"Uhm...this is-"

"Ben Mallory, her fiance."

"Fiance huh?" Chibs looked at Claire with an eyebrow raised.

"We are _not _engaged." She bit out, glaring at Ben. Chibs had never seen Claire mad, but she looked about ready to spit fire. "We haven't been engaged for months. _He _just missed the memo."

"Ah. Jealous ex, is it? Should I ask him to leave?"

"Just who the hell are you?" Ben intervened, and Chibs couldn't help but notice how whiney his voice went. "What are you now, some kind of biker slut? I saw you at leave that party with him last night."

"You followed me?" Claire demanded, either missing or ignoring the 'slut' comment. Chibs did neither.

"Listen here, ya prissy little fuck, I don't know what kinda privileged life-style ya live, but in Charming it means jack-shit. We make our own rules, and we take care of our own. And that means, as long as she doesn't want ya here, we have a fuckin' problem. 'Specially considering you interrupted a real nice morning we were having." Just for good measure, Chibs pulled Claire a little closer, and laid a solid, no-holds-barred kiss on her, which he was pleased to note she was perfectly willing to return, as soon as she got over the initial shock. Rich-boy Ben was positively squirming with distaste, but it seemed he didn't want to pick an actual fight with Chibs.

"Don't think Frank won't hear about this Claire." Were his parting words, before he more or less stomped back to his Lexus like a two-year old, burning rubber as he screeched back out onto the road.

As soon as he was gone, Claire pulled away from Chibs, looking distressed, twisting out of his hold to pace around the porch a few times, before nearly throwing herself into the porch swing. Chibs could only stand by slightly bemused. He hadn't intended that kiss to be only for show, but maybe it had been for her. She buried her face in her hands, the swing rocking her gently.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry Chibs."

"For what?"

"Ben. He's a total douchebag."

"It's alright. Like I said, we take care of our own." He settled in the swing next to her. "Look, I dunno what he did to ya, but if ya don't want to see him, I'll make it so he never comes within fifty feet of ya."

"Thanks." She pulled her face away from her hands, looking up at him with her eyes clouded by old regrets. "But that's not necessary."

"Can I ask what happened between ya?"

"He wasn't lying when he said he was my fiance," Claire confessed, still watching his face, probably for a reaction. Chibs was careful to keep his expression flat. "And I wasn't lying when I said I broke it off months ago. My family, back in Oregon, they're really well off. My Dad's a big real estate guy, old money, but he wanted his kids to learn the value of a dollar and everything, so he helped us get jobs, and made it so that we can't get our inheritances until either he dies, or we get married. But like I said, I wanted nothing to do with that, and I still don't. Ben wanted to marry into money, even though he has plenty, and make it so he never had to lift a finger. I fell for it at first, but after awhile I caught on to his crap, and also that he preferred skinny blondes. Two of them at the same time in fact. He still hasn't quite given up on getting my Dad's money, so every once in a while he shows up to harass me and try to convince me that I don't know what I saw."

"What's yer family think of that?"

"Currently, I'm the prodigal daughter. I'm estranged from my father and brother. My mother and I still talk sometimes, but she only ever tries to convince me to come home. I'm sure my Dad will be showing up sometime to bother me though, seeing as Ben plans to go tell him where I ran off to."

Ah, so Frank must have been Dad then.

"He can't make ya leave if ya don't want to." Chibs assured her, settling his hand on her shoulder. "And I'll make damn sure he doesn't think he can."

Claire's eyes turned to the floor. "Thanks Chibs. Really. I'm sorry I'm always such a problem for you." She turned her head, tucking it against his shoulder.

"Nah. No problem," He said, arm sliding around her back again. "And if it makes ya feel any better, I definitely wouldn't prefer a skinny blonde over a curvy red-head."

"Even if there were two of them?"

"Even if there were two of 'em." He nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

**Baby It's You**

_Author's Note: Hey guys, I feel like it's been awhile, so I apologize for taking so long. I've just had a crazy week, and had no time to sit down and actually like, write a whole chapter like I usually do. So...It's a bit skimpy, that is to say, this is a little shorter than average. And it doesn't involve Chibs too much toward the end, but don't worry, he'll be back next chapter. Anyway, I'm also working out some future details right now, so I may be a little slow on updating. I can't decide if I want Claire and Chibs to end up together. I like the idea, but at the same time, I don't see Chibs as the sort to leave his wife (even if they're not really together) and I don't see Claire as the sort to want him to, so I feel like their relationship is teetering a little. And I want to see season three before I make any commitments to after the car-bomb bit. Anyway, there's the wordy update, you know the drill. Enjoy. _

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Unwritten<strong>

He wondered if it was weird that seeing the porch light on, outlining her shadow so that he knew she was waiting up for him, gave him a serene feeling of satisfaction. Chibs coasted onto the Redwood Estates asphalt, the strip of driveway next to her car just big enough for his bike. She was curled up on the porch swing, the knitted blanket he had been using on the couch wrapped around her shoulders, an expression that was an odd mix between a relieved smile and an inquiring frown on her face as he started toward the steps. She stood, walking as though to meet him.

"Hey." Claire leaned on the post at the top of the stairs. "It's so quiet I can hear you a mile away."

"Probably. It'd probably piss yer neighbor's off too, if ya had any."

"I wasn't complaining. I was glad to know you were on your way." She titled her head, and Chibs was uncertain what she was looking for in his face. Maybe a hint of what he had been up to. "Is this taking off after making romantic promises thing going to be a habit?"

"I said I would be back tonight."

"Yeah, and here you are." She smiled. "You just left so suddenly, I got a little worried."

"Some stuff came up."

"Mechanic stuff?" She questioned, and he could tell from her tone that she had already decided most of what he would tell her was bullshit. Anything less than the truth _was_ bullshit, but he wasn't about to 'fess up that he had been driving around dead bodies and framing people for murder so other bodies wouldn't fall at SAMCRO's feet, followed by neutering a rapist clown. Yeah, probably not something he needed to bring up. So he didn't waste time trying.

"Just some business."

"Okay," She said, though she seemed less than convinced, stepping down closer to him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Though I've had better weeks."

Claire's hand ventured across the remaining space between them, fingers resting on his cheek. "I always thought small towns were supposed to be relaxing."

"It can be. On an off day." He shrugged.

"You want to come in for a bit?"

"What did I tell ya about starting things ya don't intend to finish?"

Claire made a face at him in response. "Just to finish the coffee we were supposed to have a couple days ago."

"Love to."

"Great." Her hand slid down his face, over his shoulder, tracing his arm all the way to his fingers, which she grasped lightly. "Come on." She nodded her head towards the door and turned to lead him inside. "I can only take this one day at a time Chibs. I don't know where this will go or how serious it's going to get, but I can do friend for now and see what happens. Are you okay with that?"

He sensed that behind her cool, lay-it-all-out tone, Claire was seeking some kind of assurance from him. Some kind of security; he could almost scoff at the idea. But, at the same time, he was glad. It was good to know that he wasn't the only one who didn't want this to be wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Of course, Claire had never given him the impression that she was the kind of person who could have a relationship without putting her whole being into it.

"Sweetheart, I've never had a problem with one day at a time." Since one day at a time meant, at the very least, he could have multiple days with her.

It was in that moment, with that thought, that Chibs realized just how much at risk for love he was. Strangely enough, it didn't bother him all that much.

* * *

><p>Claire had left him breakfast. Not much, but the sentiment was there and he appreciated it. A toasted bagel and coffee, still warm enough that he didn't have to heat it up again. A note next to the plate it sat on informed him that she had already left to work, and that he was free to use the shower and raid the fridge if he was still hungry. He gazed around the kitchen, the new tropical-themed wallpaper, not finished in some places, the utensils and decorations and knick-knacks that made it Claire's. The house had changed a lot since the first time he had been here, he just hadn't noticed it the other morning in the alcohol-fog. She had unpacked a lot, and it seemed somehow cozier. She had picked a tropical theme to make it seem more cheerful, and he could just see her pondering over the bright orange dishtowels, wondering if they would be too much. He felt like he could see little bits of her in everything.<p>

They had tried the whole 'platonic sleep-over' scenario again last night, once they realized they had been up past midnight, whiling away the time talking, and this time, Chibs had managed to keep himself on the couch. But, considering he'd been up half the remaining night listening to her move around, it had been less than restful. He doubted her night had been any better. However, that didn't change the fact he was due in at the garage in half an hour, so he tried not to dwell on how freaking tired he was, sucking down the coffee before it got cold.

Somehow, he didn't doubt that somebody within the club would know what he had been up to the last few nights, where he had been disappearing to, and provided the day went half-way normal -a rare occurrence the last couple of weeks- he knew he'd likely be getting shit from all sides. Not because the others in the Sons would be disapproving, but just because that's how they were. If it wasn't worth teasing about, it wasn't worth dealing with. Okay, and maybe a little jealousy would get involved, but Chibs would be keen on rubbing that in and saving a little face.

He rinsed his dishes, figuring that was the polite thing to do, and took a fast shower, more or less just passing his head under the water and calling it good, he didn't have time to really worry about it, and she only had girly soaps anyway; though he did make a mental note that the perfume on the counter was labeled 'Orange Sapphire' in curvy silver letters. At least now he knew.

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><p>This job was going to be much easier, and far more boring, than Claire had thought. Charming was small enough that the library was fairly conservative in size and selection, though the shelves were still numerous, and nothing much got all that out of place. Most of the discord had been caused by Ruth, the head librarian, in her misreading of titles and authors.<p>

So, her first day had consisted of starting at one end of the shelves, and steadily working through with the inventory catalog, rearranging books so that they were back in some semblance of order. Some were missing, probably on other shelves, but so far, it had been a simple and mundane task. Being so thoughtless however, it gave her mind ample opportunity to wander to other things. Namely, a certain Scottish biker who had camped out at her house again last night. Not that she hadn't spent all goddamned night thinking about him already, she had the dim circles under her eyes to prove it was so.

She was into him, there was no point denying it. She was super, super into him. And she would guess, unless Chibs made a habit of saying things he didn't mean, he was at least a little interested in her. Then again, it was pretty hard to tell when he was being serious and when he was just getting his kicks. Claire sighed, more because she'd come across an error in the ledger than because she was frustrated with her current mental state. Although, it wasn't like her to get like this. All lovesick.

Well, maybe 'lovesick' wasn't the way to put it. She knew nothing of love. Her parents got along like cats and dogs, and really, some days she wondered how she and her brother Liam had managed to come into the world at all. It had gotten worse after they were born, the siblings being a source of competition. Her father wanted to entrust his company to Liam, as he was the boy, but it had become apparent in Liam's teens that his last concern on the planet was running the company. He only wanted the money, and the privileges that came with it. Her mother had always insisted that Claire take over, she was the one with the head for business, as well as being the older of the pair. But she had shown as little, if not less, interest in running a huge corporation. She never wanted to get involved in the dirty politics, and she certainly didn't see herself capable of carrying that kind of responsibility. Claire had always wanted simpler things in life. A house, a dog, a nice quiet job, and good friends.

Obviously, this threw a huge monkey wrench in her Father's life plans, with both his heirs inadequate and her mother having a hysterectomy at thirty -to keep her girlish figure, she always said- he had seen the future of his business collapsing.

His solution to this had been to try and tie Claire down. That was his idea behind trying to hook her up with Ben, after her mother had chased away the first two snobs her father had picked out for her. It didn't matter if he shattered her hard won -and still pathetically fragile- self-esteem, Ben was settled in his own father's business and came from a good family.

It wasn't that she thought her parents didn't love her, she figured they must have in their own, imperceptible way, it was just that they loved themselves more. And that's why she'd had to leave. She knew she hadn't loved Ben, she had always known that. She had just hoped that by some miracle, trying to make something work with him would in turn win her father's love, and strangely, at the time, it had seemed like it would be worth all the pain to her own heart.

But here, in this small California town, Claire lived for herself, exactly as she wanted to, with fuck-all for plans. She may not know much, if anything, about good relationships, but just being around Chibs made her feel content, maybe even happy, if she wanted to be so bold. She hadn't had to win his friendship, in fact, considering him a friend had been practically effortless, and she imagined that falling in love with him would come just as easily. Something about liking Chibs so fast and so much scared Claire a little. She didn't know if she was just naïve, or perhaps even stupid, but she didn't care. She made herself not care, because if she liked Chibs there was nothing wrong with it, and nobody and nothing, not Ben, not her Father, not even her fear of getting her heart broken was going to stop her from doing what she wanted and feeling what she wanted.

Now that she'd decided that, if she could just get a copy of the inventory list for the library without all the typos, life would be fantastic.

"Y'know ya look smokin' hot in glasses?"

Claire shrieked in surprise, the ledger falling from her hands with a colossal thump, and the purple, rectangle-frame reading glasses perched on her nose very nearly went down with it as Claire stumbled. "God Chibs, wear a bell or something, will you? I thought you were some creep sneaking up on me." She said in a sharp whisper, compulsively keeping her voice low in the midst of all the books.

"How would me wearing a bell keep ya from thinking I was a creep?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning casually on the shelf next to him, the smile lurking on his face just barely hidden. He was still wearing sunglasses, despite the low over-head lighting of the library.

"I...I dunno. But at least then I wouldn't have screamed. What if Ruth thinks I'm dying and is calling the police or something?"

"I'll apologize fer sneaking up on ya." Chibs shrugged, as though saying sorry would fix everything, leaning down to pick up the inventory binder for her. "Anyway, how come I've never seen ya in glasses?"

"I only need them when I have to read for a long time. And trust me, I've been reading the Dewey Decimal System all day." Just thinking about it made her temples hurt. She pulled the glasses off and looked down at them settled in her hands, "Ben used to say they make me look old."

"Ben's got shit for brains," Chibs dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand, setting the binder on a shelf. "Ya got the whole, 'smart and sexy' thing going."

"So...without glasses I look dumb and sexy?"

"Or just plain old sexy," Chibs shrugged again.

"I'll take that," Claire smiled, folding her glasses up and tucking them into the case in her sweater pocket. "Did you come here just to scare the daylights out of me?"

"Oh, right. Actually, I came by to tell ya I'm leaving town for a coupla days."

"Where too?"

"Just doing a favor for a friend up north."

"Okay. That's not obscure at all," Claire said, having not really expected actual details anyway. Chibs had proven to be pretty ambiguous when it came to telling her about what he did in his spare time, and she was starting to think it might be better that way. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know if he was doing whole truckloads of illegal activity.

"I just wanted to tell ya that I asked Jackie-boy to help ya out if ya need it."

"Chibs, I'm not twelve, and you're not my babysitter. I'm a big girl, I can handle being on my own for a couple days, I promise," She smiled, something about the fact that Chibs was worried about her making her feel special.

"Yeah, I figured as much. But I just wanted ya to know. Y'know, case Ben decides he wants to try and be cute again."

"Ben's never cute."

"Ya know what I mean," Chibs gave her a slight frown that said he didn't trust her to call, even if she needed to.

"Yes, I know. Don't worry, alright? He doesn't really bother me that much. Besides, he'll be too much of a chickenshit to mess with me if he thinks I've got a big mean biker in the house." She smiled again, hoping Chibs would at least try to find it funny. It was also true; Ben was far too concerned with his own well-being to risk it trying to talk to her if he thought Chibs would be anywhere within one hundred feet of her. He was kind of a pussy, all things considered.

"Well, I don't think of myself as all _that_ mean, but, if it keeps him outta Charming, I will be."

"Thanks for that. Really. But it's okay. It's not like he actually likes me or anything, he doesn't care enough to drive all the way down here again." Claire shrugged, and Chibs gave her that same frown again, the one that said he didn't believe her.

"He's a bigger asshole than I thought."

"Yeah, sorry." She looked at her feet, feeling that her ex-fiance's behavior, no matter how she felt about him, reflected badly on her.

Chibs gave a small sigh and stepped toward her, Claire shifted, unsure what he expected from her, or what she expected from him for that matter. He set a hand on the back of the neck, and yanked her gently towards him, mushing her lips under his. Stunned, Claire's mind vanished somewhere into the clouds, and she hadn't realized her hands had wound themselves into his shirt until Chibs stepped away, giving her a one-sided smirk.

"That at least is worth the drive, and Ben's a damn fucking fool. See ya in a couple days." He kissed her on the cheek and exited the library, leaving Claire with a flush creeping up her neck and much to think about.

She had honestly figured that first kiss days ago had been meant as a 'fuck you' to Ben; essentially, she'd assumed Chibs had only done it for the sake of spite, even if it had sent tingles all the way down to her toes. But no one had been around to see that one, and it had felt just the same. Nothing had ever made her feel this way, giddy, content...desirable even. She touched her fingers lightly to her lips, trying to memorize the feeling.

With a happy giggle, Claire finished out the day in the library, knowing that she would be counting the seconds until she got to see Chibs again.

* * *

><p>Her immediate thought when knocking on the door roused her from a pleasant sleep was that Chibs had returned early. Or perhaps never left, seeing as it was mere hours after he'd told her he was out of town. But something about the continuous angry pounding gave her the impression that it was definitely not Chibs.<p>

Claire slid out of her blankets, pulling pajama pants on over flannel sleep-shorts and a hoodie over her tank-top, feeling strangely like she did when she was watching a horror movie, and unable to stop herself from thinking that no one would hear her scream out here. All the same, she made herself creep down the hall, and peer through the curtains onto the porch. What greeted her was worse than any horror-film serial killer she had been picturing.

Franklin Reinhardt stood at her door; holding a thin black box in one hand, his suit crisp, his hair flawless, and his green eyes as cold and wolfish as ever.

"Shit!" As though somehow hearing her through the window, Claire's father turned sharply in her direction, and, of all things, smiled at her. She nearly dropped-dead of a brain aneurism on the spot. Franklin Reinhardt never smiled, least of all at his failure-of-a-CEO daughter. Not to say he didn't look completely out of practice though, the sides of his mouth looked to be twitching from the effort. Figuring some form of dementia was finally kicking in, Claire reached for the doorknob; deciding that, if nothing else, she would let him in and keep him there until someone came to retrieve him. Fumbling with the locks, she pulled open the door, unable to muster a cheerful greeting. "What are you doing here?"

"Ben said you were living down here. I wanted to see your house. It's very...quaint." Despite his sugar-coated tone, Claire was able to recognize when her father was turning his nose up at something.

"Yeah. I like it. And you didn't have to wake me up at six-thirty in the morning," Claire more-or-less snarled. She'd never been much of a morning person, and the current situation certainly wasn't helping matters; it took all her effort not to slam the door in her father's face.

"Here, this is for you." Her father awkwardly held the box out to her, and, just as awkwardly, Claire accepted it hesitantly. She opened the lid long enough to peer inside and barely managed to hold back the gasp of surprise. Diamonds sparkled back at her, cold an loveless.

"Why are you giving me this?" She looked up at him in question, shutting the cover of the box with a snap, not even wanting to look at the necklace that was likely worth as much as all her worldly possessions.

"Just a little token of affection." Her father shrugged.

"You can't buy love. We've been over this. You couldn't buy Mom's love, Liam's or Ben's for me. I don't want it." Claire held the box back out to her father, but he refused, pushing her hands towards her.

"Ben was-"

"I don't care. I never cared about Ben. I only put up with him to make you happy, and look where that got me."

"I only wanted you to be happy." The look in his eyes was so lost and sad, somehow Claire almost wanted to believe that he held some form of regret. But she didn't. "I thought you were happy with him."

"Because you didn't listen to me. All it would have taken was for you to listen to me, for just one second. You wanted Ben to run the company until I popped out a kid. I get that, okay? That's not even what I was pissed about. I was angry because when I told you about him cheating on me, you couldn't even look me in the eye when you said it didn't matter. If you had just believed me, or even cared...then it would be different."

"Claire, I don't think you have the moral high-ground on that one."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Claire demanded. She had learned long ago that trying to argue with her father was pointless. But somehow, she always got angry enough to keep trying. It was always completely circuitous.

"You run out on your fiance without giving him an explanation, run away, and two weeks later you turn up here, hanging all over some biker thug." For Claire, this was the last straw. Of course, Ben would have made it out like she was the one with loyalty issues, but she couldn't stand the fact that her father believed him over his own child.

"Damnit, he's not my fiance anymore! We're not engaged, Ben was the one who cheated on _me, _and you're the one who believed him. I'm not going back, and I'm definitely not going to try and get back together with Ben. I'm happy now, and I'm staying here. So go away." She dropped the velvet necklace box on the porch at his feet, and made to turn back into her house, hopefully to shut him out of her life for good. His hand caught the door.

"Claire, please, give your father a few minutes-"

"You've had a few minutes, and so far you've tried to bribe me, then accuse me of cheating on my scumbag cheating ex. I don't think you need anymore of my time."

"Claire, I'm dying."

That made her stop. Not because the idea frightened her, not even because the idea made her sad. Just because she had never expected him to resort to such a low-down tactic to get her attention. She turned back to him, and knew her expression said she didn't believe him. "You're dying?" Her voice was laced with skepticism.

"It's my heart. I had a minor heart attack just after you left. The doctor says I've got a year, maybe a year and a half before the stress gives me a more severe one, and they say my heart won't last a second time." Claire could muster no words, she really had nothing to say in the face of this news. Her father pushed on, probably hoping to say everything he wanted before she gathered her wits again. "It's given me a lot to think about, the decisions I've made...Claire, I need you to come home. Liam can't run the business, he's still too immature. And Ben...Ben will only subsidize it into his own. I need you to come home and take over for me, once I'm gone."

Claire felt her hands ball up into fists, her jaw was tight, and her entire being wanted nothing more than to turn around and scream at him. Instead, she made herself take a deep breath.

"All my life," She said stiffly, "-all you've ever told me was how much of a disappointment I was to you. How I would never be able to take over your precious company. And after all that, you hand me an expensive gift and expect me to have some sort of loyalty? Look, I'm sorry about your heart, I really am. But that doesn't change the fact that I want nothing to do with you, or your company. I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry, but I'm not anymore fit to own a huge conglomerate now than I was before. Please just leave Charming, and leave me alone. There's no reason for us to start acting like father and daughter now, after all this time."

If her father had anything to say, he chose not to. Claire closed her door, he didn't try to stop her this time, not with a slam she had first pictured, but a gentle shove. She leaned back against it until she heard his car leave the driveway, unsure what the roiling emotions in her head were.

Just when things had started to look so simple, of course he had shown up to make everything complicated again. She knew what she wanted; to stay here and continue her own life the way she wanted, but did that make her selfish? Even if he had never said one warm word to her in as long as she could remember, Franklin Reinhardt was still her father, and he was dying of heart failure. Did that mean she should be running back to her old home and family and trying to make everything work again? The sensible side of herself said that she should be the dutiful daughter and go back to Oregon, at least until everything with the corporation was settled. The not so sensible side however, was telling her that they could all rot; after all, they had been the ones to disown her, why should she have to take responsibility now?

She wished Chibs were here. He'd give her some blunt advice and everything would seem obvious afterwords. But, he wasn't available, and wouldn't be for at least another day or two. It looked like she was just going to have to stew on it and try to come up with some answers on her own.

It wasn't until two hours later, leaving for work, that Claire realized her father had left the diamond necklace exactly where she'd dropped it. She was unable to decide whether that meant he really wanted her to have it, or he had no problem throwing away something so valuable.


	4. Chapter 4

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Just want to say a quick thank you, first of all. This story has gotten a great response, and I just want to thank everyone who has added this to their favorites or their alerts, because that just really motivates me. I love feedback as well, so I want to thank those that have been reviewing, though I try to send a personal thanks with every review. Anyway, here's chapter four. Chibs has made a return, and things are happening (how's that for a crappy summary?), but all in all, I like the way this one turned out. Anyway, same basics as usual. Read and (hopefully) enjoy. :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Steps<strong>

Chibs should have known better than to think anything was going to go right, considering everything was going backwards at this point. They had no money, they needed guns, war was brewing, and Jax and Clay couldn't stop circling each other like mad dogs long enough to make any sort of succinct plan; not to mention he had spent all of last night dealing with a bleeding, infected gun shot wound with a gushing artery, and despite washing his hands a good twenty times, dowsing them with straight alcohol at regular intervals, he couldn't seem to get the coppery smell of blood off him.

That said, none of that was what he was thinking about right now. No, he was thinking that Claire's house was only another two miles, and that he hadn't seen her since before he'd left town, and how kissing her had been haunting him like a very pleasant nightmare. He had thought about sleeping for a few minutes, or at least showering first, but he hadn't wanted to take the chance of something else going wrong and him being needed. He just needed a few minutes of normalcy, that was all. All Chibs wanted was a few minutes with Claire and an excuse to kiss her again.

However, pulling into her driveway, he got the impression he was going to end up knocking heads instead. The entire front porch was littered with yellow roses, some of which had remained in the vases they'd been sent in, but most were laying in crumpled heaps, falling victim to the broom in Claire's hands as she swept them furiously into piles, a half-full garbage bag at her feet.

He stopped his bike and shut the engine down, though she was ignoring him in favor of hurling curses at the flowers that would likely have made her mother faint. The scary thing was, though it was obvious she was pissed, her demeanor was frighteningly cold, calm, and directed. The phrase 'hell hath no fury' came to mind, and Chibs decided he'd never like to be on the receiving end of this kind of icy fierceness.

"Ya want some help with that lovely?"

She shot him a glance that was somewhere between anguish and pure frustration. "He won't leave me alone." There was something desperate about her voice that made Chibs feel particularly defensive as he stalked up the stairs.

"Who?"

"My father." And then, as though she had been holding it all in for far too long, she threw the broom to the floor amongst the loose petals and stems, and turned to kick a vase over, which explained what had happened to most of the others. Claire pressed her hands against her eyes, though he couldn't gather whether it was to stop herself from crying, or just to give her busy hands something to do. "He showed up here four days ago, talking about his heart and dying and how he needed me to come home, and waved some expensive necklace at me like he could just buy me back, but I told him no, and then I've come out to this every goddamned morning since!" She threw her hands to her side, gesturing wildly at the roses scattered about.

"Why didn't ya call Jax?"

"It's not like I would make him drive all the way out here to help me clean up. It's a family problem anyway." She shrugged, looking despondently down at the floor.

"Fuckin' harassment is what it is," Chibs said, picking up two of the vases left intact, and tossing them over the porch railing. "Make a pile and move yer car, we'll light 'em on fire. Maybe then he'll get the message."

"Light them..." She trailed off, looking stunned that he would suggest such a thing, or, judging by her next remark, perhaps just wondering why she hadn't thought of it. "That's brilliant. I'll get the one's from yesterday out of the garbage can."

Chibs smiled, pleased to see her trot down the steps with a giddy bounce in her step. He grabbed handfuls of the roses and tossed them off the patio to join the small pile started on the concrete of the driveway. This wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when he had come here, but he couldn't say he was disappointed, in fact, he was more accurately relieved to know that the roses weren't from some secret admirer that he'd have to go straighten out. The jolt of possessiveness startled him a little.

He had known her maybe three weeks, give or take a few days, and though there was no question he enjoyed being around her, and realistically had been having some thoughts about her that bordered on wet-dreams, that didn't mean he had any claim on her. Or any right to for that matter. He could not for the life of him honestly discern his feelings. He wanted to be with her, but for how long? Weeks? Months? Years? The rest of his life? Sometimes they all sounded like good bets, and sometimes the idea of another semi-permanent relationship scared the hell out of him. Tossing another armful of flowers over the railing, Chibs glanced at Claire emptying a trash bag of browning roses onto the heap. She returned the gaze, probably feeling his eyes on her, and smiled, giving him a thumbs up. He chortled a little to himself, and thought of what she had said.

One day at time. It was how he'd always lived, no reason to stop now.

Half an hour later, the roses stockpiled high and the car and bike moved to a sufficient distance, Chibs lit a cigarette and dismantled the cheap Bic lighter, dumping the remaining fluid in the center of the pile to insure they burned well, Claire handing him a match book. One strike later, the roses were blazing, smoke pouring up in their faces.

"Is it weird that I thought roses would smell nice when they burned?" Claire questioned, coughing and waving a hand to divert the acrid cloud.

"I don't think anything smells nice when it burns sweetheart," Chibs answered, taking her arm and gently pulling her up-wind of their miniature bonfire. Her hand stayed near his when he let go, her fingers gently clasping onto his.

"Do you think it makes me a bad person?" She asked softly, turning slightly to tilt her head at him. "Hating him, even now that he's dying and asking for my help? Is it cruel?"

"I've known a lot of people who have hated their parents for a lot less than some of the shit he's pulled." Chibs gave her hand a little squeeze. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered if Kerrianne felt this way about him. Did she hate him for never being there? Did she understand why? And was it strange that the woman he was smitten with made him think of his daughter? "Besides," He continued his earlier thought, tossing the butt of his cigarette to join the mini-brushfire, already smoldering into ashes, "-sounds to me like all yer doing is living the life he wouldn't let ya. I think he was selfish, and no one else can tell ya what to do with yer life."

She turned her eyes to the roses, ashy bits blowing away in a light breeze, pondering. Abruptly, she looked back up at him, a determined look flashing across her eyes. "Chibs, can you do me a really huge favor?"

"Of what sort?"

"I want you to cut my hair off." For a moment, Chibs was nothing but flabbergasted.

"Say that again?"

"I want to cut my hair. But I need help." She shrugged as she pulled a mahogany strand over her shoulder and began to twist it around her finger.

"Er...I donno if ya really want to trust me with that." Considering he spent so much time admiring said hair, he didn't know if he _could _cut it off. "Why?"

Claire shrugged again, flicking her hair back. "My mother was always the one who said I should keep it plain and conservative. Said it was more lady-like that way, but I've always wanted to do something more exciting. I was just thinking...I should do what I want with my hair, right? And I want to cut it off."

He gave this a thought, and figured she was right. Though he wanted to argue -he really, really liked her hair- he had just told her that she shouldn't listen to anyone but herself. But hell, she pulled off the boring, blunt cut very well. Then again, he figured so long as she didn't dye it, ever, he would still love the color.

"Alright, so long as yer sure. But I won't do it." She looked devastated, which he was quick to rectify. "Trust me when I say ya don't want me handling scissors that close to yer hair. What I will do is take ya to a friend of mine who happens to be a barber."

She smiled widely, looking completely excited. "Really? Great! Can we go now?"

"Just so long as you don't wake up in the morning and yell at me for not talking ya outta this," Chibs said seriously.

"I promise I won't," She returned, just as seriously.

* * *

><p>She didn't let him go in with her, citing that she wanted him to be surprised when it was done. Propped against his bike on the curb, Chibs didn't know how much of his reaction would be surprise and how much of it would be his brain breaking with the realization Claire really had cut her hair off. He'd tried to peek in and see how it was going, but it seemed Floyd was in on the ruse, and had put her in the chair farthest from the window, where they could both wave him away before he got a good look at her new 'do. Though he had gotten a pretty good idea of how much hair was on the floor, and his heart had broken, just a little. Chibs gave up on sneaking a look after a half an hour, and was now having himself a cigarette, letting his mind wander to anything that wasn't Claire coming out of the shop bald.<p>

She had been much more comfortable about this ride than the first one. Which he supposed stood to reason, they'd gotten to know each other pretty well by now, and she knew she was safe with him. Still, her willingness to ride with him and wrap her arms around him gave him a bit of a swollen ego, among other things. Good God, he wanted that woman in all sorts of ways, he didn't know how much longer he could keep going with this 'just friends' bullshit. He'd even take another night platonicically crawling into bed with her if that's what it took to get close to her. He was a lost cause, that much was certain. Chibs couldn't even remember the last time he'd gotten laid without thinking how much he wanted Claire instead.

Interrupting the thought, the little bell above Floyd's door gave a cheery ding, informing him that Claire was leaving the shop. He straightened, and prepared himself to be floored. Which he was; but in an entirely different fashion than he had expected. She had gone in looking like the girl next door, and come out looking like the auburn-haired version of Joan fucking Jett. Her hair was short, barely passing her chin, all jagged layers, angles, and flippy curls. She was positively boner-inspiring.

"Does it look bad?" She asked, after a long period of stupefied silence on his part. Her hands reached up to tug on a few of the wayward strands self-consciously, though it did little to tame the stylish tousles. Chibs gathered his jaw from the ground.

"No no, sweetheart, ya look like a rockstar. A really fucking hot rockstar. I just never knew Floyd had a talent for such things."

She smiled, a pleased sort of smile, but her cheeks darkened. "Really? He didn't want to cut it off at first, but I told him I was going to have you do it if he didn't, and he told me he wasn't having any of that. Once he got started it was like Split Ends or something."

"Split Ends?"

"It's a TV show I used to watch." She waved her hand absently. "Do you like it?"

"It's gonna take some getting used to, but yeah, I do." Impulsively, he leaned across the small space between them to place a delicate kiss on the side of her throat, realizing he'd never had the opportunity to admire her slender little neck. "I think I'll like it a lot," He added, when she all but purred.

"Isn't that a little sexy to be doing in public?" She questioned, but her voice caught in a way that made him wonder if she really cared.

"Let me take ya home and I can do it in private instead. Along with anything else ya don't want me to do to ya in public." His hopes soared when she actually seemed to debate it for a moment, but as she always did, sensible Claire re-emerged a second later.

"Hey, why don't you let me take you to dinner?"

He tried not to groan at the fact he had more-or-less been shot out of the sky. Either she was oblivious or she was doing this intentionally, and it had to be the latter. She couldn't seriously still think he was just kidding around with her.

"Dinner?"

"Yeah, I owe you for another ride, and since last time all I had to offer was frozen food, I figured this time I'd buy you an actual meal. Sound good?"

"Sure, if that's what ya want."

She smiled contentedly, and he detected a hint of relief in it as she grabbed his arm and pulled him along to the diner down the street. It was definitely an intentional dodge.

Damnit.

* * *

><p>Claire got the feeling Chibs was on to her game plan. He'd been awfully huffy since they had sat down, and every other sentence out of his mouth was a lewd suggestion. She understood his frustration, and she felt kind of like it was her fault. She had sort of unintentionally gotten his hopes up before.<p>

Whether he was angry with her or not didn't show enough to effect the fact that she really enjoyed being around him. She felt like they were on a date circa 1955, what with the hamburgers and milkshakes, and the diner looking like it hadn't changed since the a fore mentioned decade. The only difference being Chibs didn't bother using a different straw, he just reached over and usurped hers whenever he felt like it. She couldn't help the somewhat-childish notion that they were sort of vicariously kissing. Not that she was complaining of course.

She shuffled the milkshake glass between her hands, trying to imagine a subject that Chibs wouldn't be able to somehow make an innuendo. She still needed time to think about the idea of actually getting in bed with him, that was all. She liked Chibs. A lot. A scary amount. Sometimes it took all her willpower not to jump on him and tell him to have his way with her. But, no matter how much she wanted it, she wasn't sure how prepared she really was to handle anything beyond the moderate displays of physical affection. She was scared of what could happen if she spontaneously decided to toss caution to the wind. What would she feel after that? What would he feel?

She'd never really been comfortable with the idea of sexcapades, that is, it took a lot for her to trust people enough to share any sort of intimate interaction with them. Call it a built in personal-safety device. Chibs was defying all the previous rules she'd laid out for her relationships, and she was a little uncomfortable not even knowing where she stood with him. She was used to the polite sort of high-society, well-bred men, usually ones her father pre-approved to pursue her before she even knew them, and often only interested in her as far as the inheritance went. Precious few had made it past the politely boring set of first dates and into her bedroom. And even then, none of it had ever really meant anything to her, or her partners for that matter. But she knew, intuitively, that nothing was going to be boring, practiced, or fake when it came to Chibs.

He lived his own rebellious way far too well to offer her anything rehearsed and conventional. And as much as the idea made her cower ever so slightly at the idea of leaving her comfort zones, she was far too intrigued to say she didn't want to experience it, at least a little bit.

"Did Gemma tell you she dragged me to the fundraiser in town a couple days ago?" She asked, startling herself for interrupting the silence lingering between them.

"No, she didn't. How did that go?" He asked, the raised eyebrow telling her he was genuinely curious. Probably wondering whether Gemma had tried to scare her away or something.

"I met a lot of people. Bunch of other guys in the club. And Opie's wife Donna and I got to talking for a long time. She said it was nice to have another normal girl around. Whatever that means." Chibs' eyes, his sunglasses propped up on his head, darted to the left. Evidently he knew exactly what that meant, but didn't feel like sharing at the moment.

"Girls into the club aren't usually as...respectable as the two of ya are," He offered when she continued to look at him imploringly.

"Uh-huh." A little swirl of jealousy made itself known in her stomach. "Do you get women throwing themselves at you a lot then?"

"Guess ya could say that." Was his non-committal reply. Well, at least he wasn't going to lie to her face about it. She didn't really have the right to decide whether they were mutually exclusive anyway, considering she was the one putting on the brakes. She just hoped that his pursuit of her, if she were so bold as to call it that, was at least a little more meaningful. "Once I settle though, I'm usually in for the long haul," Chibs added, reaching over to take the milkshake from her grip with a delicate pry. Claire looked at her hands, now with nothing to occupy them, and twisted her fingers together, trying to decide whether she was meant to read anything into that.

"Hey Chibs..."

"Yes sweetheart?"

Claire smiled faintly, thinking of how much she used to hate being called sweetheart. It wasn't that the pet-name offended her or anything like that, it was just that Ben had always called her 'sweetheart' in the sickeningly sugary way he had always talked to her when he was weaseling his way back out of trouble. Like she was too dumb to know where he had been on all those late nights. She found she rather liked hearing it from Chibs though. The way he said it actually seemed affectionate as opposed to condescending. But she felt it fade when she thought of the question she was about to ask him. She just had to.

"Don't take this the wrong way...but, do you sleep with a lot of women?"

Chibs seemed to have suddenly lost the ability to swallow the milkshake in his mouth. Either her uncharacteristically blunt question had literally shocked him speechless, or he was trying to devise a lie.

"If I say yes?" He inquired, once remembering what to do with the mouthful of ice cream.

"I don't know," She said honestly, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit, only to realize it was now too short to do so effectively.

"If ya don't know, why did ya ask?"

"I don't know," She said again, lifting a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. She was starting to get the impression that Chibs did, in fact, get around, but was merely trying to avoid openly saying so. And she wasn't sure she was comfortable with the idea of sharing her bed with someone when she didn't know whose sheets he'd been between the night before. It had nothing to do with him, it really didn't. She still loved being around him, and she could respect his choices. What she couldn't do was get wrapped up in them.

"It's cuz of Ben, isn't it?"

"This has nothing to do with him," Claire snapped. Even though it did. Ben had, after all, been the one to open her eyes to the fact that monogamy didn't have to go both ways.

"Bullshit it doesn't." Chibs called her on it within seconds. "He's not worth another thought in yer pretty head Claire."

"You're the one who brought him up," She pointed out.

"He's a stupid fucker," Chibs responded shortly.

"I know. But that's not the point-"

"Ya don't trust me." He legitimately looked hurt at the idea, and Claire suddenly realized that was more or less what she was implying, without really meaning to.

"No, Chibs, it's just-" She paused, trying to think of words to voice her reasoning. "It's not your fault. I've been lied to, a lot, and I've been manipulated too. And Ben was the one who threw it all in my face, so you're right, I guess it does have a lot to do with him. It just made me a little...I don't know, jaded I guess. Maybe even paranoid."

"Not every man is gonna cheat on ya."

"I know. But it still hurts to think that I couldn't even make a fake relationship work." There. It was out. She had just uttered to Chibs something that she had never wanted to admit to anyone else. She wasn't sure what she expected him to say. She didn't know what she wanted to hear.

"Nothing about ya is fake, that's all. I happen to like that quality."

* * *

><p>Relationships didn't come up again in the conversation after that. They talked about mundane daily things, until finally Chibs suggested he take her home.<p>

That didn't stop her from thinking though. She'd never really gone about actually telling anyone about her trust issues. They had never really interfered with her dating life, but of course, she had never really met someone like Chibs before either, let alone entertained the thought of getting involved with them. He was, for lack of a better phrase, from the wrong side of the tracks for her to have interacted with in her old life. But now...well, this was a whole new ball game.

And really, she wondered what was holding her back at all. She felt safe with Chibs, and comfortable, no matter what, despite the fact he seemed to find it hideously entertaining to make her blush. Even on the back of a motorcycle speeding a little faster than she would consider going, even in her car, she wasn't thinking of how one wrong turn could kill them both, she wasn't thinking about how a month ago she never would have even considered taking this ride with him in the first place. She was thinking instead about how much she liked having an excuse to hold onto him so tightly, her cheek resting comfortably against his back. No matter how she may have judged him in the beginning, and she could admit, she had been a little put-off at first, she was honestly beginning to feel that Chibs may be the first true friend she'd ever had.

People she'd considered friends before hadn't even called or sent an email, asking why she'd dropped off the face of planet a few weeks ago. She wondered if any of them had even noticed. Not like it mattered, really. They hadn't been very good friends.

Moths were fluttering around her porch light, the day fading into dusk when they arrived in her driveway. Chibs offered Claire a hand for balance as she slid unceremoniously off the back of the bike. She'd get the hang of it someday, or so she told herself; in reality, she knew she'd probably always be this clumsy about fancy machinery. Chibs swung his leg over as well, evidently intending to accompany her. Feeling suddenly very daring, Claire leaned over and pressed her mouth on his, briefly, but not so fast she didn't feel the shock of heat she'd more or less grown familiar with when it came to her Scottish biker.

"I just wanted to say thanks. For...well, everything. I don't know if you could tell, but you made a really huge difference for me today. And...well, I'm really grateful."

"I just pointed out a few obvious facts lovely."

"I still appreciate it. You want to come in?" He shrugged, but followed her anyway.

Claire led the way up the porch steps, and she felt rather than heard him following her. She reached for the handle on the screen door, but before she even managed to open it, Chibs' arm appeared in her peripheral, palm on the frame, holding the door closed, and boxing her partially in. Under most circumstances, she would have seen this as very threatening. In this particular circumstance however, she found it rather sexy. She was glad her back was to him, and he couldn't see her cheeks flare crimson.

"We need to sort some shit out," He said, his voice low and near her ear.

"What?" She questioned, her own voice going soft.

"Where do we stand?"

"What do you mean?"

Chibs sighed, and his breath on the back of her neck had goosebumps springing up on her skin. "How long are ya going to lead me on?"

"Lead you on?" She questioned in disbelief. "If I have...I'm sorry, I don't mean to, I-"

"I just want a straight answer. What do ya feel?"

"I...I don't know. We're friends and-"

"I can't do 'just friends' with ya," Chibs informed her bluntly. His hand moved from the door to her shoulder, turning her so that her back was to the door, and she was face to face with him, staring intently at her. "I just can't do that shit anymore. I can't fucking take it." He reached out to her with the hand not on her shoulder, taking her fingers lightly in his, and very intentionally, very intimately, placed her hand over the fly of his jeans.

Oh lord.

She felt exactly what he wanted her to feel. _Everything. _And he kept her hand firmly in place when she tried to move away, her back pressing into the screen door. She knew her face was going red, though she didn't know if it was embarrassment or arousal.

"That's what just kissing ya does to me," He told her quietly, "-and it sure as hell isn't friendly."

"Uh..." She was dumbstruck, totally caught off guard, and extremely distracted by having so little between her fingers and pure male. Again, whole new -hot as all get-out- ballpark.

"I need a straight fucking answer from ya Claire. One more day of pretending like I'm not thinking of all the stuff I want to do to ya and I'm going to go fucking insane." He leaned closer to her, and Claire could do naught but stare back. She swallowed hard, trying to drown her nervousness down.

"I don't have a straight answer," She confessed meekly.

"Then yu'd best not invite me in until ya can say yes or no. I won't force ya, but I'm not gonna do this half-way anymore." He let go of her hand and it dropped back to her side as though suddenly boneless.

It took a moment for his words to sink in. She had just been given an ultimatum. For some reason, the idea that he could look at this with such blatant, black-and-white simplicity made her angry. It wasn't so simple on her end.

"So...you wont be friends with me, but you'll fuck me with no strings attached?"

"That's not what I said, don't make it sound like it was. I asked ya to give me an answer."

"I...I can't. Not right now."

"Why?"

Getting frustrated, more with herself than him, Claire stepped around Chibs and made a break for the porch railing. He let her go, staying where he was, but turning to face her. He waited silently for her to answer his simple question. Only thing was, the answer was anything but coherent. Finally, it just spilled, everything that had been rushing through her mind the last few hours.

"I can't give you an answer because I don't know what I want. I never know what I want, and I'm always second-guessing myself when I think I do. I can't say no because I don't really think I want to, but I can't say yes because I don't know why you're asking me in the first place. I mean, clearly you've got all sorts of other women available, so why me? I'm not exciting, I'm quiet, shy, and usually pretty boring. And, I mean, earlier today you basically told me you sleep around-"

Chibs crossed the porch and, quite literally, silenced her with a kiss, a short one, barely giving her time to register the fact he was still pretty obviously stiff in his pants before he stepped away again.

"Yer beautiful, that's why," He said simply, once he had effectively shushed her. "Nothing about ya is boring Claire. I meant it when I said I'd be in for the long haul if ya let me. And I'm not an irresponsible guy. Yu'll be safe. It doesn't have to be serious if ya don't want it to be, but I can't stand ya dancing just outta my reach anymore. As to other women? Fuck 'em."

"That's what I'm worried about."

He looked torn between amusement and frustration. "Ya know what I mean."

"Yeah, but do you understand where I'm coming from?"

"Ya won't catch me with any blondes, that's for sure," Chibs said. He reached out a hand, and laid it carefully against her face, stroking the bow of her lips with his thumb. "Yer the only one I want. I've been thinking of ya, every time. Thinking how much I'd rather have ya underneath me."

The flush came back full-force along with some vivid imagery. Was it pathetic that he didn't even have to truly talk dirty to her to get her all hot and bothered? Claire reached up, placing her fingers lightly over his hand, thinking of where she'd rather have it.

"Why don't ya come find me when ya know what ya want?" He suggested suddenly, stepping away. Very obviously giving her space. "It has to be yer choice. Don't make it for me, or anyone else. Think about what ya want, and no matter what ya decide, I'll try to take it gracefully. So long as ya promise to let me down easy if that's the way it's gonna be."

Demurely, Claire nodded. Chibs gave her one last quick and chaste kiss, before turning to the steps.

"Chibs?"

"What is it?"

"Will you tell me your name? Your real one?"

He turned to her, but was looking at something more towards her feet. "Filip."

"Filip huh? I like it."

It was some sort of bridge. Because even if he was open with her about how he felt, honest with her about small things, that didn't change the fact there was a lot going on behind the scenes. Stuff she wasn't sure she could to deal with.


	5. Chapter 5

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Actually, most of it will go on the end, just because. Anyway, some of you may have noticed I usually update on weekends, but, well, I typed like a mad-woman the last few hours. I really had to get this down. :) Rest is at the end. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Chrysalis<strong>

She had stayed up all night mulling over everything she had in her head that had anything to do with Chibs, or rather, Filip, trying to decide how bad she wanted to take his invitation for what she knew was going to be mind-blowing sex. It wasn't an issue of whether she wanted to or not, she definitely did, it was an issue of whether she was ready to jump back on that bandwagon so suddenly after such a long absence.

She and Ben had stopped having any sort of intimacy long before she broke off their horrendously fake engagement. It hadn't exactly been an eternity since she'd slept with someone, but it had been ages since sex had been anything but a formal, once-a-week sort of event. It had been ages since she'd _felt_ anything from it, and had simply grown used to the idea that desire, passion, and female orgasms were meant for steamy romance novels. Or at the very least, they were meant for other people, never her. As far as anyone she'd known before was concerned, sex was a commodity that could be traded as equally -and easily- as money, a 'payment for services rendered' sort deal. And she feared that's the way this might end up being. Chibs had only made it clear that he wanted her in a sexual sense; there had been no mention of anything beyond that. She was afraid that if she told him yes, she too was done with only being friends, she would end up trying to buy a relationship.

Claire didn't have it in her to do such things again. She had built walls to prevent it from happening, just as she had to try and protect herself from being used. But for all those walls, Chibs had gone right through them. He was just too...real. There was no stifling formality with him, no layers and hidden meanings to peel away. He told her, directly, that he wanted her. But there was just so much else to think about.

No matter what he said, and how hard Gemma had tried to sell it to her at the fundraiser, she knew Sons of Anarchy was more than just a weekend motorcycle club. The reverence of people in town, the nasty eyes from the cops, and of course, the general secretiveness of where Chibs went when he wasn't with her or at the garage, all pointed toward something far from simply recreational. What kind of nasty business did he deal with? Drugs? Prostitution? What if he killed people? Could she handle having even one shred of proof that his hands were bloody? What scared her more was she didn't know whether she would believe it if she _had_ irrefutable proof. Chibs had gotten way down deep under her skin, and she had already decided he was a good guy.

Claire sighed, curling her legs up onto the couch, dawn light peeking through the windows. The flower guy hadn't come by yet, she wondered if he would.

That was another issue that needed to be sorted out sooner or later. What was she going to do about her family? She'd been so occupied with her and Chibs she hadn't even given them a thought in the last twenty-four hours. She pulled her hands through her hair, much more chaotic than it had been yesterday from her constant tugging and twisting.

She wasn't going back to Oregon. Simple as that. But she did feel a little gnawing guilt in the back of her heart about leaving her father's hard-earned company to fall to ruin in the greedy hands of her brother or ex-fiance. Maybe it would be better that way in the long run though, all she'd ever seen the conglomerate do was create avarice. Now it was just a matter of telling her father that, and making him believe that no amount of roses or high-priced jewelry was going to change it; anymore than buying her a Benz had made her stay. In fact, she had sold it, bought the Jetta, and put the left-over in the house fund; so it had essentially had the opposite effect.

Maybe informing him she was getting it on with one of the local bikers would do the trick. Or make him disown her again.

Claire immediately hated herself for the thought, no matter how facetious it had been. She would never use Chibs, or anyone else for that matter, to do her dirty work. Nope. She just needed to man-up, or the whatever the female equivalent of that was, and push her old life totally out of her new, nice, quiet one. And while she was at it, she should throw out all the walls her old life had built, and start anew in the relationship department as well.

No matter what happened, even if it was the worst possible outcome, at least it would mean something, to both of them, even if it was only as simple as fulfilling desire. And she wanted that. She wanted it so badly it hurt. Claire wanted to be more than a dollar sign and good family connections to someone. And, as far as she could tell, none of that meant anything to Chibs. If that wasn't a reason to trust him, she didn't know what was.

The club, their relationship, his secrets, they could work all that out as they went. Just so long as he didn't mind a few ground rules.

* * *

><p>Chibs had always hated people sneaking up on him. Which was why, when Claire's quiet voice and a tap on the shoulder came out of nowhere, he nearly cracked his head open on the hood of the old rusted-out Thunderbird he'd ended up working on. He didn't see stars, but he did hit it pretty damn hard.<p>

"Goddamned son-of-a-bitch motherfucker!"

"Uh...Sorry." Claire retreated back a step, startled by the outburst.

"No no, that wasn't directed at ya. This piece o' shit's been giving me trouble all goddamn day," Chibs amended, giving the car a kick to the tire to prove his point, whilst holding his aching head.

"Are you alright? That sounded like it was liable to give you a concussion." She placed a hand on either side of his head, forcing him to bend until she could see what was likely a huge goose egg forming on the back of his skull. "No blood, so I think you're at least safe from dying of blunt force trauma."

"I think yer gonna have to wear a bell too if ya plan to keep sneaking up on me that way."

"I didn't mean to. I thought you'd heard me."

Chibs pulled his head from her hands to give it a little shake. And, deciding he didn't want to beat around the bush, he went right to the point. "So, if yer here, I suppose that means yer done thinking."

"Yeah. Uhm...can we go somewhere more private?" She looked at her feet, but he could see the color going to her cheeks. He was honestly beginning to wonder if there was ever going to be a time where they could have a conversation without Claire blushing. Still, he supposed it was to be expected she didn't want to discuss their -he hoped- prospective sex life in front of the six other guys currently lingering around the garage. Some of whom were peering at them in interest.

"Sure. C'mon."

He didn't think it would be appropriate to take her to one of the dorm rooms. In fact, he worried that would make him look like he was taking liberties, and have her rethinking a positive answer. The bar was occupied by Clay and Jax, likely having it out, once again, so his only option left was Church. Claire followed him silently, even after he had closed the double-doors, standing warily next to the table.

"This's as private as it's gonna get. 'Less ya want to use one of the bedrooms."

"Uhm, no. I don't think that will be necessary."

He wondered if his face fell as much as he thought it did. That didn't sound like it was in his favor. She shifted, fidgeted, tugged at the hem of her sleeveless blouse. "Yer killing me here Claire."

"Sorry." She dropped her hands from her shirt, crossing them instead in an all too familiar and somewhat foreboding fashion. "Uhm...there are some things...I just want to say a few things first, okay?"

"Alright. Fire away." He leaned back on the door, crossing his own arms.

"Uh...okay. Well, first, I'm not comfortable being naked, never have been, but it's mostly because I used to be heavier, and I have stretch marks from it. I haven't had sex in eight months, and I've never had very good sex, so I'm really, really out of practice. I don't know what to expect; so you're going to have to go slow with me. Like, really slow. I'm a screamer. And, I'm not asking for marriage or anything like that, but I need some kind of relationship with you. Even if it's just friendly, I can't do a one-night-stand. Also, I'm on birth control and have no STDs." She looked at her feet the entire time she told him all of this, as though she expected him to be angry about it. Personally, he appreciated the honesty, even if it was all in one big tangent. And he never would have pegged her for a screamer.

Chibs pushed himself off the door, crossing the floor to her. She kept her eyes down.

"So...was that a yes?"

"That was an 'everything needs to go on the table so there are no ifs, ands, or buts,'" She shrugged, still looking stubbornly at her feet. "Do you still want to go through with this? With me?"

"What the hell kinda question is that?" Chibs demanded. Claire looked up then, meeting his gaze with a stricken one. "Ya think any of that would change my mind? Hell sweetheart, do ya want me to get down on my knees and beg or something? Cuz I will."

"Don't. That would be embarrassing." She grabbed his arms, as though hoping to hold him up if he did decide to drop down.

"Yer the only woman I know who would find it embarrassing to have a man beg ya to give him a chance."

"I meant embarrassing for you."

"Not if it got me what I wanted." Her hands still clutching his arms, Chibs reached over to set him palms on Claire's hips lightly. "None of that changed a thing. The only thing that's gonna stop me is ya giving me a flat-out no."

"It's been a long time for me..." She said again softly, and the little flutter of worry in her eyes went right to his heart.

"S'okay by me. I get the feeling yer gonna be dynamite." She blushed again, but with a smile this time, and Chibs was unable to tell whether he'd flattered her or embarrassed her more. He pulled her hips to his gently, and she came willingly. "So, my straight answer...?"

"Is a yes. A tentative yes, but yes all the same."

"Thank God for that." And he kissed her. It was at this moment that Chibs realized he'd been dealing with a reserved Claire before. Seemed once she decided what she wanted, she went for it gung-ho. Her hips ground into his, one arm moving to hook around his neck, and other latching around his back.

Dynamite, just like he'd thought. Halle-fucking-lujah.

Within seconds, he had her coaxed up onto the table, hands possessively gripping her ass, and pulling her so tightly against him he thought she might just melt onto him, one of her long legs wrapping in open encouragement around his. Her back was attentively straight as they both leaned, her back, him forward, pressing her rigid spine into the reaper carved in the table. Her breath was hitching, but so was his, and it probably had mostly to do with the fact neither of them were stopping long enough to actually breathe.

"Hey Chibs, Jax said you were in here and- oh shit...whoops." Claire practically yanked away, a gasp escaping her, as if she hadn't any idea how she'd ended up laid out on the table like a very tasty dessert.

Not for the first time, Chibs wanted to murder the Prospect. "Out!"

"I'm sorry! I just-"

"Fucking out!" Chibs shouted again, rolling his eyes as Half-sack practically tripped over his own feet in his haste. The kid had a terrible habit of walking in where he wasn't wanted at the worst possible moment. He was honestly starting to wonder if child-proof locks would be prudent. "Er...sorry about that sweetheart."

"I'm thinking trying to get it on during my lunch break was a bad idea anyway," Claire speculated, notably not making an effort to get up. Which could have something to do with the fact he was sort of pinning her there. He took an effort-full step away, and she promptly sat, pulling her hair back into it's stylish flip; though the rumpled clothes, flushed cheeks, and kiss-swollen lips would probably have people guessing she had just been sucking face regardless. "Will...will you come over tonight?"

"Do ya really think I'd just leave this unfinished?" He waved a hand vaguely at the table.

"No. I don't know." She shrugged, but averted her eyes from the redwood, obviously catching his drift.

"I'll be there soon as I'm done here," He promised, stealing a fast kiss while she was distracted with her hair. A happy, shy, and eager smile, all expressions somehow rolled into one, curved her lips. She tugged on the collar of his cut to pull him back for another, this one a little longer, lazy and exploratory. She leaned back just as he was thinking of pouncing on her again.

"Okay. Chibs...Filip...thanks."

"For?"

"Letting me decide. That means a lot to me."

"Despite the impression I might give, I'm not a brute sweetheart."

"I know." She graced him with another brush of the lips, before sliding off the table. "I'll see you tonight."

* * *

><p>Claire left Teller-Marrow feeling like everybody knew she had nearly been laid on their table. Though her ears and neck felt warm, she held her head high returning to her car. Nothing to be ashamed of, after all, she'd seen some things going on the night she was here to put her almost-lay to shame.<p>

As she opened the door to head back to the library and finish her day, she was caught off guard to see the blonde who had walked in on them jogging up to her.

"Miss! Hey miss!"

"What is it?"

"Uh...Chibs told me I had to come apologize, cuz I probably really embarrassed you and...and so I'm sorry?" He rubbed the back of his neck, making a pained face, as though unsure how he was supposed to go about saying sorry. She wasn't sure she could blame him, considering what he was apologizing for.

"It's okay. It...wasn't really your fault, was it?" Now she looked at her feet, realizing how foolish she had been, not even considering whether the door was locked.

"No, I guess not. But he was pretty pissed about me interrupting you." He laughed nervously. It seemed like the kid thought she intended to deck him or something.

"Yeah, well..." She trailed off, feeling it was best not to mention that the interruption would be irrelevant as of the evening, and generate more rumors for the mill. "Hey, why does your patch say 'prospect'?" She asked suddenly, spontaneously noticing the difference.

"Huh? Oh. Cuz I'm not patched in yet. I'm a prospect, y'know, so that's what it says."

"'Patched in'?"

His mouth dropped open slightly. "Uh...I'm not really part of the club yet. I still gotta earn my reaper," He explained, looking mildly confused. "Y'know, you're not the sort of girl I usually see Chibs with," He added randomly, and she got the feeling it was more than just a matter of appearance he was referring to.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No!" He waved his hands avidly, "I mean, you're really pretty. And you seem really nice and all. It's just...you're so different."

"Yeah, I guess he and I don't have a lot in common." She shrugged, this was something she had known since the day they had met. "So uh..." She stalled, realizing she hadn't asked his name.

"Half-sack." He filled in for her, smiling.

"Half-sack? And I thought 'Chibs' was an odd name..."

"It's cuz in Iraq-"

"That's enough information for me, thank you very much." She held up a hand, knowing exactly where that story was about to go. As far as she knew, there was only one thing you'd call a 'sack' on the human body, and she'd heard some horror stories about body parts being lost in the fray. She could damn well guess what he was about to say. "Anyway, Half-sack, how exactly does one go about earning a patch?"

"It kinda depends on how much the other guys like you. And how much you're willing to do for the club." He shuffled his feet, fiddling his fingers together. She would guess he wasn't as close to earning it as he'd like to be from the sound of things.

"Well, you seem really nice," She offered. But the second part of the statement had her a little worried. "What sorts of things do you have to do?"

"I'm just a go-fer mostly," He admitted sheepishly.

"Oh, okay," She nodded, despite the fact that was still pretty vague. At the very least, she found the idea of Half-sack being involved in the club comforting. He seemed much too sweet to get into anything really bad. Maybe she was being too presumptuous about the whole idea of them being a gang.

"So are you gonna be his old lady then?"

"Excuse me?"

"Chibs. Are you gonna be his old lady?"

"I don't know what that means."

"You're really new to the MC scene aren't you?" Half-sack questioned; in a way that made Claire feel like a naïve thirteen year-old.

"Let me put it this way, I'd never even been on a motorcycle before I met Chibs." This actually seemed to shock him. Just a little.

"Oh. Well...uh...anyway, just in case he doesn't ask you...uh...you should look me up some time?"

Claire pursed her lips in confusion. Was he legitimately trying to flirt with her? After walking in on she and Chibs nearly dry-humping? She felt as though she had missed some sort of obvious puzzle piece.

"Okay...uhm, well we'll see, alright?" She tried her hardest not to let him read anything into it. Maybe it was just an innocent, friendly, 'hey you're cool, let's hang out' sort of invitation. Whether her effort to keep it meaningless was effective or not, Half-sack nodded, apologized again for what had happened earlier, and trotted off back into the garage. He was pretty adorable, in a basket-full-of-kittens sort of way.

Pondering the fact the she still didn't really know what it meant to be an 'old lady', though she could hock a pretty good guess, Claire climbed into her car and headed back to the library, with fifteen minutes left to spare on her lunch break.

As the afternoon had progressed, Claire became more and more antsy. She couldn't decide whether she was nervous or excited, or just plain scared. She half-wished she had ditched these last few hours and just taken Chibs straight home, even though she knew her conscience would never let her, especially since Ruth always told her what a responsible girl she was. Still, that wasn't stopping her over-active imagination coming up with some pretty hot scenarios that had her squirming in her chair by the time five o'clock rolled around.

The fact that she decided to read an erotic romance novel to kill time definitely wasn't helping matters. She wondered if she ought to do something romantic. Teller-Marrow closed an hour after the library, so she would have time, provided she was quick, to set a little something up. On the other hand, Chibs didn't seem the sort to appreciate a sensual atmosphere and musky candles. Maybe she could dig out some of her lacy underwear at least.

Somewhere in the midst of her oh-so-sexy daydream, Claire realized with a jolt she had left out one very, very important detail that she never, ever forgot.

Condoms.

Yes she was on birth control, and it wasn't that she didn't trust Chibs to be safe, but...she couldn't say the same of anyone else whom he may have slept with. And, well, it was just a precautionary rule of hers. No rubber, no sex, and this especially applied to the first time. Simple as that.

Which meant she was going to have to risk going to the store and buying some. A sure-fire way to raise some eyebrows, seeing as she'd been in town less than a month. Ah hell. This had better be worth any vicious rumors it started.

Gathering her willpower and her small cross-strap purse, Claire left the main desk of the library with a quick goodbye to Ruth, who often stayed later than Claire, doing the books and what have you. She drove down Main street, trying to decide which shop would be most likely to carry condoms, settling finally on the grocery store. It wasn't a chain, but she figured it would be most likely to have a stock of such things. She parked and headed in grabbing a shopping bag and dropping in some fruit and a couple frozen dinners, convincing herself she needed them, even though she knew, at best, they were merely a smoke-screen for her real prize.

The collection of condoms and lube, sharing an aisle with vitamins, was small but diverse. She was hard pressed to find any plain old prophylactics. Reservedly, she reached out and selected a box of Trojans that didn't have anything fancy written beneath the label.

"You know, for some reason I'm not surprised to see you here."

"Jesus!" Claire's heart thudded up to her throat, the condoms flying to the floor with a loud 'thwap'. She spun on her heel, and came face-to-face with none other than Mama Bear herself, her lips curling in a knowing smirk. "Uhm...Hi Gemma. I was just-" She stammered for words, knowing full well that her entire face was likely bright pink.

"Oh, take it easy Honey. I'm not gonna lecture you. Hell, if anything, I think I'm impressed. You held out a lot longer than most girls, I think it humbled Chibs a little."

"Oh. I guess that's a good thing. Right?"

"Suppose so," Gemma said, striding forward in the confident, elegant fashion she had. "Anyway, I'm glad to see you're being responsible."

"Thanks?" Claire ventured, while Gemma reached unerringly to grab a different box from the display.

"Here, try these instead. Trust a pro." She placed the box in Claire's hand, and turned as though to walk away. "One other thing. I said I wouldn't lecture you, but I am going to warn you; he'll go all night if you let him, remember to change the raincoat." And with those lovely last words, Gemma was off to the grocery section, leaving Claire with a slack jaw and a box of Ultra-thins clutched tightly in her hand.

Dear God. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how Gemma knew that.

* * *

><p>She knew she was pacing, but she couldn't stop herself. She had indeed dug out the lacy bra and panty set in the bottom of her drawer, but feeling awkward wearing only that, she had ended up putting jeans and tank-top back on. Her heart was thudding fast, and her lower stomach was churning with anticipation. Part of her wanted Chibs to hurry up, and part of her wanted him to get caught in traffic so she could have a few more minutes to prepare herself. To the kitchen, back to the foyer, to the kitchen, and then to the living room. She made herself sit on the couch and take a few calming breaths.<p>

It was excitement, she knew. Not nervousness. She'd thought she would be more hesitant, more worried. But she just wasn't. She was burning and yearning. Claire had never known it could be like this. She had always known exactly what to expect, exactly what to do, and often, that she would be unsatisfied in the end. But she hadn't the faintest clue what would happen tonight, and the idea thrilled her.

She chewed her lower lip, and took a deep inhale. God forbid she chicken out at the last minute. If these longing, wondering feelings that had been building up since yesterday night went on too much longer, she'd probably go insane.

Finally, she heard the faint sounds of a motorcycle, something she was becoming quite attuned to, and her whole body started tingling with anticipation, knowing he was coming here for her. Just her.

She met him at the door, and he wasted no time, sweeping her up and claiming her mouth under his.

"Goddamn ya," He mumbled into her kiss, "I've been walking around hard as a rock the last half of the fuckin' day and it's yer fault." His arms banded around her back, lifting her feet off the ground enough to carry her, letting the screen door slam behind him, but not bothering with the door itself. She made an effort to try and kick it shut, but Chibs moved away from it before she could, and she figured she was so far out in the boonies, the worst that could happen was a draft. Or a raccoon. "Tell me where."

"Bedroom?"

"Yes ma'am." He hefted her a little higher, and Claire took the opportunity to wrap her legs around his waist, partially to make herself a little less cumbersome to carry, and partially to see whether he was telling the truth about being hard as a rock. Which he was. Foreplay was clearly not going to be an issue. Surprising herself at her reaction, a throaty groan escaped her mouth into his, and, seeming of their own free will, her hips ground her own hot-spot on his. "Easy sweetheart, ya don't want me gettin' too distracted and dropping ya." Chibs grinned against her hungry lips.

"Sorry. Can't help it." Her words were strained.

"Hell, I'm not complaining." Chibs grinned again, and lowered her onto her mattress, pressing his weight onto her gingerly, as though worried she would try to bolt if he moved too fast. He stared down at her, sunglasses noticeably absent. "Jesus Christ yer beautiful."

"You've pretty successfully gotten into my pants Chibs. Flattery isn't going to get you much further."

"I'm just being honest." His hands tunneled beneath her shirt while he spoke, teeth teasing her neck, shoving the thin fabric away. She instantly shied, feeling the usual rush of self-consciousness she always did when being bared. But he was patient with her, setting the shirt aside and spreading his hands gently over her breasts, as if memorizing her by touch. "Huh. I've always wondered what that was of," Chibs observed mildly, tracing the lines of the heart tattooed on her chest, a crown wrapped around it the way a banner would be on a similar tattoo design. "Can I ask what it means?"

Claire held back the scoff of a laugh. "I was nineteen and terribly naïve," She said, her own finger tracing lightly over the familiar red and yellow design, the colors still bright and the black outline still dark. "I had a crazy notion that love conquered all. My father hated it. He made me cover it up for years, never even knew I got others. Ben hated it too."

"I think it's sexy." To prove his point, Chibs leaned his head down, laving over it with his tongue. "Really, really sexy."

"Guess it's good I never got it removed." She leaned her head back, letting him have his way, her hand curling over the back of his neck. "Filip..."

"Hmm?" He wasn't sidetracked from flicking his tongue along skin showing just above the lace-trimmed edge of her bra.

"Nothing. I just like saying your name." She smiled, finding it strangely true. She felt oddly privileged, knowing she could know him as Filip. Didn't mean she was going to call him that often though, she was pretty accustomed to 'Chibs'. His fingers distracted her from her train of thought, tugging the cup of her bra down, his teeth lightly finding a puckered nipple, wrenching a gasp from her throat, and she felt Chibs grinning into her skin while he soothed the tiny burn with a kiss.

"Sorry, ya just look so damn tasty." He moved to the other side without missing a beat.

"If you say so," She groaned while her back arched toward his mouth, every part of her burning, wanting the same affection. She was aware that her fingers were digging into his shoulders, but it was hard to care. Something about the leather under her fingers seemed erotic in a way she never would have thought.

It had never been like this. She had never felt like she was going to melt from the inside out.

Deftly, Chibs pulled the straps of her bra further down her arms, freeing everything for his personal perusal. Claire's hands fluttered nervously, suddenly aware of how little she wore, how much of her was exposed, and worried about the marks he would see from several years and thirty pounds ago. Delicately, a single finger trailed over the fading white lines decorating the sides of her breasts, and lower around her stomach.

"Sweetheart, ya got nothing, _nothing, _to be ashamed of." He cupped her gently. "I like the way ya feel."

Tears of a nameless emotion rose in her throat, but they were quickly drowned out when he squeezed, just enough to drag another ragged gasp out of her throat. "So far I like the way you're _making_ me feel."

Looking a little surprised at the confession, Chibs laughed lightly, lifting her enough to unhook her bra with practiced expertise, tossing it away and firmly pushing her hands away when she again felt like covering up. He rose to his knees and scooted down the bed, his legs straddling hers, fingers finding the button of her jeans and leaning down to place a kiss just below her naval.

"Chibs-"

"I want ya naked," He responded simply to her unspoken question.

"But...I-"

"Claire, there's nothin' wrong with ya. How many more times do I hafta say yer beautiful before ya believe me?"

"I don't know..."

"Sweetheart," His face softened, but not his grip on her jeans and he stripped the denim and lace beneath off of her in one swift motion, "-by the time I'm done with ya, yer gonna love yer body as much as I do, and yer gonna wish ya never wasted a breath on those guys who didn't know how to love ya right."

With a jolt, Claire registered exactly what he had said. Love her? Did Chibs love her? Or was he using the word as a verb? A moment later, none of it mattered, because Chibs' fingers were working some serious magic on the pussy that might as well have been waiting for him all this time. Thumb on the sensitive little bundle of nerves, and a pair of fingers invading her at a regular rhythm, Claire was certain she forgot how to breathe. All she could do was clench her hands into tight fists in the sheets, and moan like she didn't give a damn. And she didn't, just so long as he didn't stop. He kissed her again, his tongue prodding hers, synchronizing with his fingers, and within moments, her whole body was spasming, her back arching off the bed with fireworks behind her eyes.

"Holy hell..." The words were a semi-coherent, guttural moan. Best orgasm ever. Period. And that was just with his hand.

"Dynamite. Just like I told ya." Chibs sounded almost as satisfied as she felt.

"Take your pants off."

"Y'know, I never pegged ya for the impatient sort-"

"Take your damn pants off Filip." She surprised herself with the commanding tone, but she was done waiting. Hell, she felt like she'd been waiting for this experience since she'd discovered the meaning of the word sex. The last ten minutes had been better than her entire previous sexual history combined. She shoved Chibs' cut off his shoulders, and pulled his shirt over his head, her lips demurely exploring his chest, while he grinned down at her.

"Fast learner, aren't ya lovely?"

"I think I'll have to be to keep up with you." She dragged his mouth down to hers while he dealt with his jeans. She kissed him hungrily, then dared to trail her tongue along the scar in his cheek. She had never asked what they were from, and he had never shared. His movements stilled briefly, Chibs' dark eyes seeking hers.

"Sometimes I forget they're there," He stated quietly, and there was something in his voice that made her think he liked it better when he could forget them. Maybe she wasn't the only one with marks that were darker on the self-image than they were on the real image.

"I like them," She said just as quietly, giving the same treatment to the scar on his other cheek, ending in a warm kiss. "They make you look really badass."

Chibs laughed, and she realized that had been sort of silly sounding given the context, but she supposed laughing meant she had succeeded in making him feel better. She smiled back at him and stretched up, reaching for the condoms she had left in preparation on the night table.

"Safe girl," Chibs observed, and much to her delight, he sounded approving. "'Course, I think yer expectations are a little high," He added, eying the string she had grabbed.

Claire blushed a little, hoping it wasn't giving a bad impression. "I thought it best to be prepared."

"We might get to all of these, provided ya let me nap between rounds."

Hoo boy. She didn't know if she was quite ready for that. Her mind wandering to the possibilities of multiple 'rounds' as Chibs had dubbed them, she was brought back to full attention by Chibs snagging one of the condoms, unwrapping it, and donning himself in a swift, and again, practiced motion. Her hands itched with the desire to touch, and she made a mental note that she got to put the condom on next time, but it seemed Chibs was now sharing in her impatience.

He sidled himself between her thighs, and with only slight encouragement from his hands, she wrapped her legs around his waist again, this time feeling much more erotic about it, as there were no barriers between them this time. No clothes, no hesitations. Nothing. Bracing on his hands, Chibs leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips.

"First time I saw ya, I had this exact fantasy."

"Exactly?"

"Damn straight. I loved yer legs. I wondered how they'd feel like this."

"And?"

"And it feels like fucking heaven." He eased into her, though he was meeting absolutely no resistance on her part. She wasn't exactly virgin-tight, but even if she was, she was wetter than she'd ever known it was possible to be. Her legs tightened, dragging him closer, cock sliding in to fit just right. A satisfied whoosh of air issued from Claire's lips against his shoulder. He was right. Felt like heaven.

And after that, the world outside could have ended for all she cared.

* * *

><p><em>Rest of the Author's Note: Well. You see why I had to get this out of my system, yes? Let's just say, I've been reading a few of those 'Steamy Romance Novels' the last few days, and it's given me all sorts of naughty inspirations. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this. :) Thanks again to all those who support this story, and a special thank you to demonicseer and Roman Lizzy, because you guys make me feel special. <em>


	6. Chapter 6

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Uhm...I actually have nothing to say for a change. I figure you all know the plan from here, other than another quick thank you to all those who've added and reviewed. Ya'll are awesome. I write, you read, we're all happy. Well, maybe not everyone, but I digress. Read on, review if it pleases you. As a side note, I think I might stop naming the chapters. They've been kinda lame so far neh? I think I might stop bothering. :) Carry on. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Inquisition<strong>

This time when Chibs woke up in Claire's bed, surrounded by the smell of her perfume and sex, it was not a panicked feeling he woke to. It was better described as a deep-seated sense of satisfaction. That had been a night to remember.

He felt her shift around next to him, and opened his eyes to find her staring, very intently, back at him, her hair standing out in all directions like a bird's nest.

"Am I going to get crabs?" She asked the question with such a frighteningly straight face, Chibs was sure for a moment she was merely joking. However, when the grim little line her mouth was set in didn't waver, he realized she was indeed very serious.

Well. So much for sweet-nothings while basking in the afterglow. Chibs had never considered himself a romantic sort of guy, but Claire often made him want to be. That said, pubic lice had never been his first thought in the morning either.

"Sweetheart, that's something it probably would have been smart to ask me _yesterday_."

"I know, but-" Her face went from worried to horror-stricken. "Oh hell. Is there anything else I should have asked about yesterday? Should I go to the doctor?"

"Oh, ye of little faith," Chibs said, torn between whether he should be amused or offended, "-remember what I said? I'm a pretty responsible fella Claire. I said yu'd be safe."

"So...?"

"So yer fine. I'm clean."

"Are you sure?" She looked tentative to ask it.

"Yes, Jesus, I'm not exactly keen on catching anything either."

"Oh." Her mouth rounded to the sound, and then she promptly pressed her face down into the pillow. "God. What a horrible thing to wake up to. I'm so sorry. I just started thinking...and I realized it never even crossed my mind-"

"S'alright. I've had some pretty shitty mornings myself." Chibs shrugged. Claire's face remained buried in the pillow, the sheet pulled up tight around her shoulders. He got the feeling she was suffering a little morning-after embarrassment, so he didn't bother poking fun at her for covering up what his hands and mouth had been all over just hours ago. "Is it alright I slept here?"

"Yeah. Of course." She pulled her eyes slowly up from the pillow, propping her chin on her hand. "I think I would have been upset if you hadn't." Silently, they looked at each other for several moments. "I also think you're the first person that I've been able to say that to and mean it."

"C'mere." Chibs reached over, gathering Claire up in his arms, and rearranged them both so that she rested in the crook of his arm, their body heat mingling in the millimeters between them. She tensed, still cocooned in the sheet, but after several moments, she let out a long exhale and he practically felt her entire body relax. He didn't take it to mean she was uncomfortable with him. Given their brief discussion of her previous lover, and his singular encounter with the man, he would guess the asshole had never taken the time to be with her in the morning and hold her like this. It probably seemed strange to her.

"This...this is nice." She tucked her head against his shoulder, one arm looping over his middle in an uncertain fashion. "You know, I didn't believe Gemma when she said you'd go all night if I let you."

"Yer exaggerating sweetheart."

"Four times and seven orgasms is a record for me. I'm sore in places I didn't even know existed."

"Ya counted?"

"Yeah. Didn't you?"

"Claire honey, I don't think I coulda counted my fingers last night. Once ya get started yer a fuckin' wildcat."

"I'm going to assume that was a compliment."

"Nothing but."

She smiled in a pleased fashion, snuggling a little closer. The hand holding the sheet firmly around her loosened, before trailing up to his face, lightly tracing the deep line carved there. He really did forget about them sometimes.

"Are you ever going to tell me about these?"

"Not much to say." He knew he probably sounded evasive. But he didn't want to talk about Jimmy and, by association, Fiona. Not when he was cuddling Claire close the way he was. Even though being around her made him think, really think, about the things he had done. Things he had never questioned himself on. "Made some mistakes, trusted the wrong people."

"I guess that's a no."

"It's a messy past sweetheart." And that, at least, he could be honest with her about.

"Is there such thing as a clean past?"

"Donno." She was quiet, but her hand continued its motion, gentle, almost ghostly. He half-wished she'd stop, but he also found it somehow soothing.

"Hey Filip...what's it mean to be an 'old lady'? I mean like, in the Club context."

"Someone ask ya about that already?" He asked, strangely pleased at the idea.

"Mhm. The blondie. I guess Half-sack is his name, er...nickname. I hope. Anyway, he said if you weren't going to ask me to be your old lady, I should look him up some time, so I was curious."

"That cheeky little fucker." Chibs found it very difficult to keep the growl out of his voice. Of course, when the Prospect decided he wanted to try and be a player, it just so happened to be with the girl who was absolutely off-limits. And not just to the Prospect, Chibs wasn't willing to share Claire with anybody, and she sure as hell wasn't a sweetbutt anyway, if that's what the little bastard had been thinking.

"What? I take it being an old lady is a big deal?" Claire raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's not just that. He overstepped his boundaries. Big time. And he's got his own girl he's supposed to be mooning over. I'm gonna skin him."

"Hey, relax. It's not like it meant anything. Maybe he was just being nice. He's a sweet kid." She set her hand in the middle of his chest, perhaps planning to hold him down. "It's not like I said yes, okay?" Despite wanting to argue more, and maybe make a sort of claim on her while he was at it, Chibs sighed and nodded.

"Okay. I'm calm." He raised his hands in the proverbial surrender motion to prove his point, then wrapped his arm snugly around Claire's shoulders again, tugging her close.

"So really then, is being an old lady like...being a wife or something?"

"It's something like that," Chibs said, plucking her fingers up from his chest with his free hand, absently fondling hers. "It's just a way of saying no one else messes with yer woman. If they do, ya got the right to kick the ever-lovin'-shit outta them."

"Ah. That sounds really...feudal."

"Feudal?"

"Yeah. It makes it sound like you own them."

"It's a mutual agreement, lovely. Both have gotta want it. I mean, Gemma is Clay's old lady."

Claire gave a quiet laugh. "And nobody could own her, that's for damn sure."

"That's true. Would ya be my old lady if I asked ya?" The question escaped before he even realized what he was saying. Seeing as it was too late to take it back, he could only look on as she took a moment to stare at him in mild shock, and then the ceiling as she mulled it over. Chibs waited in silence, partially terrified of her answer, partially eager to hear what she would say.

"I don't know. It's kind of soon to be thinking about that, isn't it?" Her voice tightened, and he knew what she was thinking, she was was worried that he was only offering that because they had spent almost the entire night fused together. It wasn't that. It wasn't because he felt obligated. It was just an honest question, one that he now wished he could take back, for fear of scaring her off. The future was something they had made a mutual, albeit silent, agreement not to talk about. "I almost got married not that long ago, and it was the biggest mistake of my life. I don't...I don't think I'm prepared for that sort of thing. Not right now anyway. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to be around more, I'd love to...y'know, date and be together and all that stuff." She looked at him with her cheeks darkening slightly. "But...all I want, for now, is just a promise that it's only going to be me for awhile."

"If it's gonna be like last night every time I manage to get ya naked, I don't think I'll have the energy for anybody else."

"Chibs, I'm being serious."

"I figured yu'd know by now I'm not so good at being serious. I was only trying to make ya smile."

"_Can_ you promise me that?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" Her eyes went heavenward in disbelief at the simplicity of his answer, and Chibs could only grin. She shouldn't be so fun to rile up, he might not find it so entertaining then.

"Alright, alright. I promise, I'll lay off the crazy nights, unless of course ya plan to join me. Better?"

"Yes. That's good." She smiled and laid her head back down where it had been, before almost instantly popping back up. "Shit. I've gotta be at work in an hour."

And, not even blowing him a kiss, Claire nearly sprinted from bed, stark naked, into the bathroom. Chibs could only smile while he took a few minutes to stretch out and soak in what was left of her warmth lingering in the sheets. He also thought of joining her in the shower, but knew Claire would likely smack him. Or at least chase him out again. Sitting up to look around for his pants, Chibs caught a glitter from her dresser in the corner of his eye.

"Holy shit..." He stood and crossed the floor to get a better look at the diamonds glaring back at him. She'd said her family was well off, but he couldn't even guess a ballpark figure on that thing. It must be the necklace Claire had mentioned her father trying to bribe her with. Knowing that, Chibs snapped the lid shut, and continued to look for his pants.

No one was taking Claire, bribery or otherwise, so long as he had anything to say about it.

* * *

><p>Claire had only seen the police in Charming once, while she had been at the fundraiser a while ago, and then, hadn't had much of an interaction with them. Which was why she found it extremely surprising to see the Deputy-Chief tromping through the library. She also noted he was heading directly towards her, making a list of books needing new copies behind the main desk.<p>

"Hello," She greeted politely, but reservedly, unsure of what to expect and lowering her pen.

"Deputy-Chief Hale." He stuck out a hand for her to shake, and she did, if in a somewhat timid fashion. He seemed angry about something, and she'd hate to think it had anything to do with her.

"Claire Reinhardt," She offered in return, setting her glasses to the side. "Can I help you find something?"

"No. There are just some things I need to ask you. Can we step outside?"

"Ruth's not here right now, I really need to mind the desk, in case anyone comes in," she explained honestly. One of Ruth's major rules was that customer service be flawless. She refused to let the desk remain unattended until closing time, even if the library wasn't exactly a bustling hub of activity. It was a matter of policy rather than necessity. She also felt more secure in this setting. Unless she had done something to merit being taken to the station, which she was fairly certain she hadn't, she was comfortable to stay here. "So then, what's this about?"

"Chibs Telford."

"Chibs? Why? What happened?" The question was laced with the inevitable panic of expecting the worst.

"We hear you've been getting kind of cozy with him." Hale watched her face, as though looking for some kind of indicative reaction. The statement brought Claire to full-attention. Had the police been watching them in town the other day? Just what gave them the right to do that?

"And how is my personal life police business?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow at Hale. She knew that in a small town, gossip usually decided who was passable as a citizen; what she hadn't expected was wagging tongues to bring the police to her.

"You haven't been in town long, have you?" He asked, ignoring her question.

"No, a little over a month." Claire shook her head. "Why?"

"I don't expect you to know too much about it, seeing as you're new and all, but I need to know how involved you are with the Sons of Anarchy."

"I'm not involved at all. I'm involved with Chibs...sort of, and that's it. I barely even know anyone else in the Club."

"Define sort of."

"Am I in trouble or something? Is 'getting cozy' illegal here?" She realized she shouldn't have back-sassed a police officer, no matter how quietly it had been, but she hadn't been able to help it. She really didn't like what Hale seemed to be implying.

"You're not in trouble. Not yet anyway. But no one who gets mixed in with SAMCRO stays that way for long. I only wanted a chance to talk to you before ATF got a go, I didn't want to let them harass you if you've got nothing to do with them."

"ATF?"

"Alcohol, tobacco, and firearms. It's-"

"I know what ATF is. What do they want with me?"

"Chibs hasn't been telling you much, has he?"

"No. Like I told you, I don't know anything. We're not even that serious." Or, she didn't think they were. It was difficult, if not impossible, for her to determine where she stood on that.

"Look, the body count here shot up a couple days ago, and SAMCRO is in the middle of it. ATF is after anyone with even a nodding acquaintance with the club, looking for a way to get to them. This means you, and if you don't speak up, it's obstruction."

"I don't know anything." She spoke very clearly, but quietly, her mind already dealing with other things. A government agency getting involved was a pretty serious deal, as were dead bodies. Had Chibs been involved in that? If so, to what extent? She had known the MC wasn't as innocent as everyone tried to make it look, but she had still hoped it would never come knocking on her front door. A naïve hope perhaps, considering how willingly she had gotten involved with Chibs.

"ATF is going to try and scare you. Jail time, your personal life, anything they can use. Will you be able to say that then?"

"Yes. Because it's the truth. I can't help you or ATF. Just because Chibs and I have been seen together a couple times doesn't mean he's started spilling his guts."

Hale gave her a long, appraising look, probably trying to decide whether she was being truthful. Claire only stared back; compared to Gemma, his probing gaze was nothing.

"Alright," He finally sighed. "If that's all you've got to say, we're done. But listen, guys like Chibs...they can't separate life from SAMCRO. Sooner or later you're going to see something you can never un-see, and then you'll be on their leash forever. You're a nice girl, you come from a good family. Get out while you're still able."

Claire watched Hale leave with turmoil curling in her gut. She didn't want to admit it, but he was probably right. And even if Chibs could separate life from the club, she didn't know whether she would always be able to separate him from the criminal activity that seemed to suddenly be building up. Could Hale be right? Would she only end up being chained to the Sons of Anarchy? If she did, would she care?

She didn't know.

Everything about this would-be could-be relationship with Chibs was like walking on a tight rope of what she did know, precariously balanced over a cesspool of what she didn't know boiling beneath her.

On a spurt of spontaneity, Claire reached under the library desk and dug her phone and the worn Teller-Marrow card from her purse. Why not just ask him? Even if he would only lie to her, at least then she could gather he was trying to protect her, or himself. A lie would at least tell her that she was better off not having any details.

She dialed the number and waited three rings before the line was picked up.

"Teller-Marrow?"

"Hi Gemma, it's Claire. Uhm...can I speak to Chibs please?"

"Sure baby, hang on a second."

Claire raised an eyebrow into the empty silence of the library, wondering when she had become 'baby'. Or why Gemma hadn't been indignant about her calling during office hours.

"Sweetheart?" His voice sent a tingle of longing to her stomach, even over the phone, and the hint of worry his tone carried sent of rush of warmth to her heart.

"Chibs...I need to ask you something."

* * *

><p>Ah hell. It was question time.<p>

He had known Claire would have questions, sooner or later, but he had never known when or what they would be. Gemma left the office, knowing privacy would be requested without him actually asking, and Chibs took her spot in the office desk chair, the phone pressed to his ear.

"What's wrong lovely?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just...Hale came by the library today."

"Didn't know he was interested in books."

"He wasn't. He was asking me about Sons of Anarchy."

"What did ya tell him?"

"The truth. That I don't know anything. But...he said ATF was probably going to question me too. That you guys are involved in an investigation."

Chibs felt his teeth grit. Bad to worse. He'd heard about the up-tight ATF bitch busting in and interrogating Donna, but he honestly hadn't expected anything to blow back on Claire. At least, not this soon. Hell, she'd barely started to get to know him, let alone learned anything that had to do with the Club. Why the fuck was Johnny Law already on her back? Actually, if he had to guess, he'd say it was because they were desperate. ATF and the cops had nothing on SAMCRO, so they were aiming their spotlights at innocent bystanders instead. Bastards, the lot of them.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it, alright?"

"It's a federal investigation Chibs, that's pretty far from nothing." Her voice was soft, but pointed. She wasn't going to let this go. "I just...did you kill anyone?" She blurted out, and he could practically see her wishing she had come up with a more tactful way to ask.

The honest answer would have been 'yes'. Or at least, 'yes, but not recently'. But Chibs couldn't bring himself to answer truthfully.

"No. I didn't kill anybody."

"What is this about?" Her voice was so low, it was nearly lost in the static of her breath into the phone. "And why do they think I have something to do with it?"

"I don't know sweetheart. ATF has been pulling this kinda shit for ages. They're just bitter cuz they can't find anything, so now they're gonna pick on people we care about. Just keep telling them the truth, and it's all gonna blow over soon."

"But what is it about? ATF wouldn't be here just because they didn't like you guys. I could believe that if it were just the cops, but a government bureau?"

Chibs rubbed a hand down his face, knowing that if ATF did end up questioning her, they'd tell her everything he had been holding back. Would it be better that she hear it from him? At least part of the truth?

"They think we're gun runners, and they think we were the reason those people died."

"Are you?"

"We're business men sweetheart. But we make damn sure it stays outta Charming." _Until now_. The unspoken words hung in the momentary silence.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked quietly, a mere whisper. "What if I tell ATF when they ask me? You essentially just confessed."

"Because I trust ya."

"You want me to lie for you." Her voice was softly accusatory.

"No. I know ya better than that. Yu'll do what ya think is right. If it's telling them the truth, I'll just have to live with that."

"I don't know what's right." There was another static-filled silence. "But I won't tell ATF anything. It's all hear-say anyway." He couldn't tell whether that was positive thing or not. He couldn't even tell whether she was angry. "I don't want you to get arrested."

"I won't get arrested. There's no proof."

"Okay." There was a peculiar mix of relief and disbelief in her voice, as though she wanted to believe him, but couldn't quite bring herself to do so. All the same, she asked no further. Instead, she asked a question he'd been hoping to hear. "Uhm...Chibs, when can I see you again?"

"Tonight? I'll come by yer place."

"Okay. Uh...bye." She clicked the phone off before he could utter a response.

With a sigh, Chibs set the phone aside, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. She hadn't even let him say goodbye. Surely that meant she was upset about being dragged into a federal investigation. But on the same note, she had asked to see him again. Maybe she only wanted to ask more questions though, questions she didn't feel comfortable asking over the phone. The thought made him shudder.

"What did she say?" Gemma questioned from the doorway, leaning lightly on the frame.

"I think she's a bit ticked." Chibs shrugged.

Gemma made a sympathetic noise. "Well, can't really blame her, can you? She sleeps with you and the next day the law is harassing her for no apparent reason. Can't say I'd be too happy either." Chibs could only shrug again, pulling himself out of Gemma's chair. It wasn't as if he'd wanted this to happen.

"We'll figure it out."

"Figure it out? So you're serious about this girl then?"

"I dunno. I guess."

"You bother telling her you're married yet?" When he went stark-still, Gemma shook her head in a knowing fashion. "I'll take your silence as a no." She sighed at Chibs like he was a particularly annoying child, and plopped down in the chair he had just vacated. "It's not fair to lie to her like that Chibs, especially if you really care about her. And if she cares about you, it's just cruel."

"Ya think I don't know that? But that's not exactly something ya bring up casually..."

"Don't make excuses, honey. It doesn't suit you." Gemma pretended to be very interested in some papers on the desk, though Chibs knew she was watching him. "_Do _you care about her?"

"It's hard to explain..."

"Always is when it comes to real feelings. They never make any goddamned sense, and people usually end up doing really stupid shit in the name of love," Gemma said, in a way that made Chibs think this lecture had originally been meant for Jax. "You're going to have to tell her eventually."

"I know. I just donno if I wanna think that far ahead right now." He also pretended to be very interested in the papers on the desk. "'Specially considering I dunno how serious _she _is." Somehow, Chibs expected Gemma to understand his predicament. He didn't know why, other than the fact she had always seemed to understand everything.

"Anyway, none of that really matters right now. What matters is whether she's going to screw you up or not." Chibs raised an eyebrow, and Gemma gave him a pointed look. "I've met her, I know what kind of girl Claire is. She's real nice. Too nice even, and it's a shitty time for you to be getting a moral compass. If falling for miss goody-two-shoes is going to have you considering a career change, I want to know about it ahead of time."

"So ya can talk me out of it?" Chibs questioned wryly.

"If that's what I thought was best, yeah." And she said so unabashedly. Gemma was a woman who knew no bounds. "You said yourself you didn't know how serious she was about you, and this whole ATF thing is probably freaking her out. Think about it Chibs, you two live lives so goddamned far apart you're practically from different planets. How do you know you're not just some bad-boy fantasy she's living? I don't think she's the kind of girl who would be prepared to deal with the shit we really get into. You can't keep her in the dark forever, and even if you do, it's only a matter of time before someone else tells her what you've been covering up."

"Yer saying I should break things off with Claire?" Not that there was a whole lot to break off. And even then, he didn't want to. He had, in total honesty, never expected to end up caring about her the way he did.

"I'm saying it's unfair to not let her know what she's getting into," Gemma replied shrugging her shoulders. "For what it's worth though, it looks like she's actually pretty serious about you. Or maybe she's just immune to Kip's charm." With that, she handed Chibs the key to a Ford, and shooed him out the door in the fashion of a huge bother.

He could hardly contain the derisive laughter at himself. Of course. He should have known the Prospect was too busy being in love with Cherry to try that on his own steam. It seemed so obvious now that Gemma had put him up to it to test Claire, make sure she wasn't a skank in disguise. That woman was way too protective of people who weren't even her kids, or even close in his case.

* * *

><p>It was late when he finally made it to Claire's house, and Chibs knew she'd most likely already be asleep. Still, he didn't want to leave their conversation the way it had ended. It felt wrong somehow.<p>

Just like leaving in the midst of aiding an escaping convict so she wouldn't rat on the Club.

He heaved a sigh as he hung his helmet over the handlebars of his bike, suddenly understanding what Opie was always dealing with, and he wasn't even married. Not to Claire anyway. Chibs forced his mind away from Fiona; he wasn't going to think about her right now. First things first, and that meant settling things that had been hanging as loose ends since this afternoon.

Her door was unlocked, big surprise there, and he could see traces of the roses her father had sent this morning, pink this time. He must have left just before they were delivered. Pity. He'd kind of enjoyed seeing Claire's face light up when they had burned them.

A little hesitant, he pushed the door open, expecting some sort of alarm to go off or something, but only silence and darkness greeted him. Chibs made his way back to her bedroom, and saw her head poking over the blankets, or rather, her bed-head. He didn't want to wake her.

As though hearing that thought, Claire sat, and he realized she had been waiting for him.

"I almost expected you not to come back," she said, pulling the sheet up to her chest.

"Now why would ya think a silly thing like that?"

"I don't know. I guess...things got a little weird for a minute there."

"Yeah. They did." He walked to the bed and sat down, his leg brushing hers. "Did-"

"Some lady from ATF came and talked to me." She nodded in confirmation. "She was a real bitch too, just...really nasty. But she said talking to me wouldn't be any help, because I haven't been here long enough to know anything good. She gave me her card and said to call if I saw anything worth reporting."

"What didja do with it?"

"I threw it away." Claire shrugged. "Even if I did want to report something, I'd sooner tell Hale than her. I didn't like her at all." She hugged her knees up to her chest, pulling away from him, in more than a just physical sense. "Besides, it has nothing to do with me. I don't want to get involved."

"Claire, sweetheart, ya are involved."

"I didn't ask to be." She reminded him sharply. Then her voice softened again. "Sorry. You're right. I am, and it's my fault. But I...I don't want to know anymore. I feel like if I do, I'll end up _wanting _to say something. I'm not like you or Gemma, Chibs, I can't know something and not say anything, especially if it's something that could cause trouble. It just...isn't like me."

"I figured as much." Chibs reached over and brushed her hair back, which turned out to be completely ineffectual, the mop continued to stand up as it pleased. She remained withdrawn. He'd guess she was thinking, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know what about. Probably had something to do with her deciding she wanted nothing to do with a criminal. Chibs stood, thinking that perhaps it would be best if he left and gave her space, even if he wanted nothing more than to spend the night in her arms.

"Filip..." A pleading hand reached out, grabbing his arm lightly, preventing his departure.

"What?"

"Could you...it's pretty late. Why don't you sleep here? I mean, if you want to..."

"How do ya expect me to say no to ya?" She smiled and tugged his arm, Chibs kicking out of his shoes and curling up with her, holding her close, relieved that this hadn't somehow ended earlier in the day.

Why did it feel so natural to be like this? Lovey-dovey and sappy and affectionate. He wasn't usually that kind of person. It wasn't sex with Claire. It was making love. He had only noticed the distinction once before.


	7. Chapter 7

**Baby, It's You**

_Edited Author's Note: So, just in case anyone re-reads this, I have to apologize for the first upload. I don't know how it happened, but for some reason an un-edited version was saved, and I accidentally posted it last night, so...it was like, a really, really rough draft. I'm sorry for that (It was really embarrassing when I checked this morning and noticed it wasn't corrected). Anyway, other than that, it's mostly the same, and I want to thank Roman Lizzy who did the Beta read. It helped, for sure! Otherwise, carry on. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Eventuality<strong>

"Do you think Abel would like the sports car or the firetruck?"

"Sweetheart, he's an infant. I think he'll like whatever ya get him so long as it makes noise."

"Suppose you're right." Claire looked between the two singing plush Fisher-Price toys in her hands once more, weighing the pros and cons between the two ridiculously adorable adaptions of machinery. "I'll get him the firetruck," She decided, with no further input needed from Chibs, setting the sports car back on the shelf. "I feel like it's more encouraging."

"Encouraging to what?"

"I don't know. Not be an asshole who drives a sports car I guess." Claire shrugged, glancing over her shoulder at Chibs, who had been making it very difficult to concentrate on buying children's toys. His hands cupped over her hips and constantly rocking her back against his groin, making sure she knew he was thinking more of getting her home than anything else. She swore the man had the stamina of a tri-athlete and the patience of a saint; a truly fearsome combination. He would get her rip-roaring to go, and then take all damn night relieving the aching fire he lit, obviously reveling in the fact it was slow torture to her when he took his time. If she didn't love it quite so much, she would accuse Chibs of being a sadist.

"_If_ he grows up to be an asshole, which I seriously doubt," Chibs replied to her earlier statement, "-he'll be an asshole who rides a Harley."

She laughed lightly, Chibs burying his face in the side of her neck, likely bored near to tears from shopping. Even if they had only been at it for half an hour, he'd made his distaste for the activity clear. "If you keep that up people are going to think we're making a baby rather than shopping for one."

"Let 'em. They can all be jealous."

"You're a sex-addict."

"I know," He responded, apparently thinking it wasn't an issue, tongue trailing up the side of her neck, sending chills down her spine and blood up to her face, darkened by the fact there was a group of young mothers less than an aisle away who could turn to see them any minute now. "And I'm especially addicted to sex with my smokin' hot librarian."

"_Your_ hot librarian?" Claire questioned, squirming out of his grasp. "Come on, Chibs. Behave for like, five more minutes, please?"

Chibs gave an overly-dramatic a sigh, before taking a very purposeful step back. "There's something I gotta go pick up anyway. Y'mind if I meet ya by the car?"

"Uh, sure. What do you need?"

"It's a secret." He gave her a cheeky wink before tugging her close enough for a positively toe-curling kiss, and so he could get a good grab of her ass; his possessive hands over the back pockets of her jeans, seemingly unfazed by the plush toy between them -still clutched absently in Claire's hands- as well as the gasping mothers at the end of the aisle. Claire, however, was not.

"Chibs, that's definitely not what I meant when I said to behave." She pushed him off with a hand firmly in the center of his chest, knowing he had been trying to make her blush, and hating that he was succeeding with so little effort. One would think she'd be used to it by now.

"Sure it was." He grinned, giving her a peck on the lips and heading for the door, leaving her with a sneaking suspicion he just hadn't wanted to be seen buying kid stuff.

Claire smiled as she watched him go, Chibs giving a cheerful wave to the three women and their kids, all of whom promptly turned on their heels and tried to pretend like they hadn't been watching.

She could tell he was being extra-flirtatious today, probably trying to make up for vanishing on her last night. Over the past few days, it had become almost normal to wake up with him, which was why she thought it strange he hadn't been at her house last night.

She assumed that the reason was club-related, something he wouldn't tell her about, especially considering, as far as SAMCRO went, things were going completely pear-shaped these days. She'd heard about Bobby and Opie's arrests, and from the look of things, the law was going to get to keep Bobby. Opie on the other hand had returned to Charming yesterday, and she assumed that Chibs had been at the clubhouse, doing whatever they did in such a situation. Still, a phone call would have been nice. Especially since he'd shown up on her doorstep this morning, the only day of the week she had off from the library, seemingly halfway between drunk and hungover. He didn't talk to her about whatever had gone down, which she supposed was only fair, as she had asked him not to involve her, but...she had been really worried. More so when she noticed he smelled like another woman's perfume. He'd been quick to remedy that with a shower, claiming an overly-affectionate drunk who happened to be female was the explanation. She wasn't entirely sure she believed that, but she didn't want to believe he was lying either.

Claire carried the toy she had selected toward the register, wondering if Jax even knew she was going to be at Abel's homecoming party. As far as she had been told, Chibs was the only one aware that he had invited her, which made the invitation itself a bit of a moot gesture. Still, it couldn't hurt to turn up and drop off a gift, a good-will gesture or something along those lines. Purchasing the firetruck, along with a bright blue bag and tissue paper, Claire headed for the parking lot, where she found Chibs leaning up against the side of the Jetta with his own gift bag, this one orange and black, dangling from his fingers.

"I thought you already bought Abel a gift," Claire said, curiously nodding to the bag.

"This one's not for Abel," Chibs answered with a conspiratorial smile, before holding it out to her. "It's yers."

"What is it?"

"A present." She could hear the 'duh' lurking in his voice.

"I know that. But what's in it?"

"Defeats the purpose of wrapping it if I tell ya sweetheart." He persistently held it out to her. "C'mon, humor me."

"You want me to open it right now?"

"Yeah, go on," He urged, shaking the bag at her in what she supposed was meant to be a tempting fashion.

"Okay, hang on a second." Somewhat awkwardly, Claire opened the back door of the car, placing what she had bought on the back seat, before taking the gift bag from Chibs and sitting on the seat. The bag was heavy, but not overly-much. She gave it a shake, trying to decide what it was, and got a pointed throat-clearing from Chibs.

"Just open it, will ya?"

"Sorry. I don't really like surprises..." She offered. In her experiences, surprises were very rarely a good thing. But, appreciating the random gesture of affection, Claire tugged the top few layers of tissue paper off and met a smooth, black, curved surface. A few more wisps of paper later, and she discovered it was a motorcycle helmet, which looked to be just her size, with a small decal that matched the tattoo on her chest almost perfectly done on the back. She could only stare at it at first, then glanced up at Chibs, who, for the first time since she had met him, looked like he felt awkward, rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes on a far corner of the parking lot.

"Ya like it? I just figured, ya know, this way when ya ride with me ya don't hafta borrow mine. If ya want to ride with me. Er...I just thought ya might like to have yer own, y'know? I kept the receipt, case ya don't want it-"

She nearly took Chibs off his feet as she more or less jumped at him, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him fervently.

"I think this may be the best gift I've ever gotten," She told him honestly.

"Well, that's a relief." Chibs grinned, his arms sliding around her easily, pulling her flush against him. Claire smiled and snuggled in, feeling like another bridge had been made between them with that simple gesture.

It wasn't just because the gift was thoughtful that made her so grateful. It was the permanence it seemed to offer. Things had been touch-and-go before, and still sort of were, but this...offering her the helmet seemed like he was inviting her to be a part of his life on a more permanent basis. Or at least, a basis where she rode with him often enough to need her own gear.

But then, maybe she was reading too much into it, and he only wanted her to be safe.

It didn't matter, she was happy.

"Still wanna take a shower before we go to Jackie-boy's?" Chibs asked in her ear, as though he liked hugging her too much to bother letting go.

"Yeah. That way we can switch rides too." Claire nodded.

"Why do ya wanna switch?"

"Well, I'll look silly wearing a motorcycle helmet and driving my car, won't I?"

"Good point." His smile seemed appreciative as he released her from his grip, "Let's get a move on then. Gemma'll cut my cock off if we're late."

"Can't let that happen, I use that." She grinned back at him and pecked him on the cheek, clambering into the Jetta before Chibs got any wily ideas about having her in the parking lot.

Not that it helped, seeing as she was the one with the lusty thoughts.

Claire drove them back to the house in record time. She hadn't really noticed it until recently, but she had been driving faster, maybe even more recklessly, the last few weeks. Perhaps Chibs was rubbing off on her? Maybe he made her feel more daring than she had been before, even in such a small way. She wondered about it as she pulled in next to his bike, parking the car in the same place as always. It seemed so natural to see it sitting there, like it belonged.

"Give me about thirty minutes to get ready?"

"Sweetheart, I'd give ya all the time in the world, but I'm not the one ya gotta be worried about." Chibs smiled, climbing out of the car and promptly lighting a cigarette. "Go on, get that pretty li'l tail in the shower before I start grabbing ya again."

"Ehm...you could always take one with me..." Well, so much for keeping her naughty thoughts to herself. He looked surprised and slightly amused by her offer, but Chibs only smiled a little wider and planted himself firmly next to his bike.

"C'mon now, don't do that to me. We'll never make it in time if we end up naked together."

"Guess you're right." Claire tried to offer a smile, but it was hard to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She had really wanted to try and tempt him for a change. She'd gotten a little spoiled being with Chibs. She was always content to follow his lead and she had never had to put much effort in, he was obviously comfortable taking charge, but had thought maybe it wouldn't hurt her to take the initiative once in a while. Then again, she wouldn't want to risk facing Gemma's wrath either.

Claire wandered to the bathroom and tossed her clothes in the hamper, turning the water to nearly scalding, just the way she liked it. She figured her desire to make the first move would likely last until they got back from Abel's party. There were very few hours of the day where she honestly stopped wanting Chibs, and she'd had more sex in the previous week than she had ever dreamed possible.

She was only vaguely aware of the door opening, but didn't think much of it, as she had gotten pretty accustomed to sharing her space, especially with Chibs. What she hadn't been expecting was for the shower curtain to be thrown back, and a warm body to press up against her back, his arms boxing her in against the tile.

"I thought we decided this was a bad idea?" She questioned, her voice already breathy with anticipation, her legs going wobbly, and her inner thighs damp with something besides the shower water. He turned her on zero-to-sixty without even trying.

"Changed my mind," Chibs answered, kissing the back of her neck. "Ya left me out there thinkin' of all the things I _could _be doing, and it was fucking torture." His teeth sank lightly into the long tendon at the side of her neck.

"Gemma's going to kill us."

"She'd kill me anyway if I showed up to her grandson's homecoming with a hard-on. I figure at least this way I can die happy." His hand slid down the wall, her eyes following attentively as it left the tile, sliding down her arm, across her stomach, fingers teasing between her legs. Claire practically melted instantly, drooping back against him, whatever she had been about to say getting caught in her throat. "'Sides, doesn't look like ya wanna put up too much of a fight." She could feel him grinning against her skin.

This must be why she never took the initiative. Twenty seconds with Chibs and she was limp as a boned fish. She found her feet long enough to twist around, her back pressed into the tiles instead of his chest, looking up at Chibs through the steam of the shower. He smiled down at her, something about it seeming gentle, more affection than lust. It wasn't the first time she wondered what Chibs felt for her beyond the bedroom, just like it wasn't the first time she pushed it to the back of her mind. It wasn't something that could be easily brought up, at least, not without her own feelings being prodded out into the mix.

How would he react if he knew she was in love with him?

She didn't think about it further, his lips lowering over hers, tongue invading her mouth without hesitation. He was right, she wasn't putting up a much of a fight. His hands gathered her ass, lifting her up until her damp center was pressing against him, slow torture for both of them. Claire moaned low in her throat, his fingers digging into her skin as he cradled her close, the tiles slippery and cold against her back, though she doubted that was the explanation for the goosebumps on her skin. She had long ago given up trying to control her verbal reactions to him, since Chibs seemed to enjoy them anyway, but she still often surprised herself with just how much of a range she had. She had always been too busy trying to muffle them for fear of embarrassment to notice, and she loved that Chibs encouraged her to let loose. One of the many things she supposed.

Claire struggled momentarily in the small confines of the shower to get her arms and legs caught up with her, wrapping them around Chibs and clinging on for dear life.

"Am I too heavy?"

"Sweetheart, yer perfect." His voice was a groan, his lips sealing tightly over her nipple, breasts now within reach of his mouth. "I need ya so fuckin' bad..." He nestled his face against her chest.

"You've got me." Finding the strength that had left her legs moments ago and sliding herself up against the shower wall a bit, she reached a hand between them to circle lightly around him, guiding his cock to slide into her waiting channel, everything already clenching, anxious to have Chibs back inside her. Her chest heaved with ready gasps, Chibs moving against her inner walls like hot silk, his mouth capturing hers, swallowing the little keening cries that had been echoing off the bathroom walls.

He moved his waist in a slow circle, loosened her legs a little to give him room, thrusting against her hard enough that she felt the grout between the shower tiles scrape along her skin, not that she gave a damn, nothing could possibly distract her from the tightly coiled pressure in her lower stomach. Chibs moved her delicately, guiding her to match his pace, though she couldn't figure how he still had the coordination or the strength when she was practically coming undone in his arms and around him. Somehow, she fit him like a perfect glove, he hit every sensitive spot within her each time he pulled out and buried himself back in. Sex with Chibs was like one extensive, infinite orgasm. Nothing about it didn't feel amazing, and, ever the gentleman, he always made sure she got off at least once before he did.

But this time, just as she was about to go flying off the handle, her core was suddenly empty, Chibs' vacating her completely. She whimpered at the feeling of loss and incompleteness.

"Filip-"

"No condom sweetheart," He groaned, his fingers replacing his cock almost instantly, tweaking her clit lightly. With a jolt, she realized he was right. She'd totally forgotten.

Chibs was the first person, the only person, she had ever let fuck her without rubber. How had she let that slip by her? The realization, the near frightening shock of her carelessness was almost enough to cool her down. It would have been if Chibs hadn't been determined to make her come, with or without the assistance of his dick.

Her fingers shaking ever so slightly, but wanting desperately to satisfy Chibs as well, Claire reached out, finishing him off with a few delicate pumps and strokes of her fingers, the same time he coaxed her sex to explode, his name reverberating off the walls while she shook and nearly collapsed. She was honestly quite surprised with her success, she had never given a hand-job before, and hadn't been sure she would be any good at it. Then again, he hadn't needed too much attention. They stood there panting for a long moment, Claire hanging off Chibs like a rag doll, parts of her still aching to be touched, even though she had hit her climax just seconds ago.

"I'm sorry, lovely. Didn't think that one through all that well," Chibs mumbled against her shoulder, reaching down a hand to gingerly rub away a bit of white clinging to her hip.

"I'm on the pill. It probably would have been okay," She offered, sliding her limbs off him to move under the shower head a little more. She felt weird hearing him apologize for something that was equally her responsibility.

"Ya willing to risk that?" He asked, though not in a scornful fashion, moving close again to join her under the shower spray, the water starting to go a little lukewarm.

Claire looked away. For a moment there, she had been. Looking back now, she realized how rash and borderline foolish that had been. She had always had a policy of better safe than sorry, and even if she did feel strongly about Chibs, that didn't make throwing out all her rules acceptable. Even if this seemed to have moved beyond a simple physical fling for him as well. "No, you're right. Thanks for...for you know. Finishing."

"Same to ya, sweetheart." He pulled her to him for a quick kiss. "We'll fuck properly when we get back. In the meantime, we just killed twenty minutes of the half an hour ya had to get ready."

"Shit!" She nearly jumped out of the shower, realizing he was right, searching fervently for a towel before realizing Chibs had set one out for her, along with the clothes she had picked out for the party that morning. "You're the greatest, Filip."

"I do my best to impress ya." He grinned, shutting the water off.

"It works." She smiled back.

* * *

><p>Though they rushed -Claire barely having time to put on make-up- and Chibs drove like a bat out of hell, they still only managed to beat Gemma by about three minutes, some of which Chibs used to congratulate himself on guessing the perfect fit of her new helmet. They had just barely gotten situated on a couch when she and Jax burst through the door, announcing Abel was officially home.<p>

Chibs noticed Claire hung back, observing the baby from a distance rather than squishing forward with everyone else, but he supposed she just felt awkward, despite everyone's friendly treatment of her. His little minx was so shy, and it was terribly endearing. Still, he hated for her to think his friends weren't her friends, and slung an arm around her to sweep her into the crowd.

Her face lit up when Abel gurgled up at her from Jax's arms.

"Aw! Jax, he's such a cutie! He's definitely got your baby blues." Chibs smiled at her attitude change, leaning his chin on her shoulder to look over at Abel as well. She was right about his eyes.

"You wanna hold him?" Gemma asked from a few feet away, smiling at Claire, who was cooing back at Abel as though she thought they were actually communicating.

"Oh, that's alright. I'm uh...I'm not so good with kids."

"Bullshit. He loves ya," Chibs pointed out, reaching around her so Abel could clutch at his fingers. "Go on, ya can't be much worse than Jackie-boy."

"Hey, watch it," Jax warned, though he was smiling.

"No really, it's okay-" She didn't get to finish her protest, Jax shuffling the infant into her arms. Her expression went through a rapid succession of changes, starting with fear, moving to nervousness, before a gentle smile spread over her lips, her eyes shining with what Chibs could almost swear was longing. Chibs gazed at her clutching the baby close, and got a strange floating feeling in his chest. She would be a good mother, someday. Most likely not with him, and definitely not with Ben, Chibs thought he'd like to see her with her own child someday; the idea warmed him.

"Okay, if you've got him for a minute, I'm gonna go get a beer real fast. Keep an eye on him," Jax announced, giving his son's belly a rub as he passed them to the kitchen.

"Jax-"

"Yer fine sweetheart. If yer worried that much, sit down." He nudged her to the couch they had been on earlier, and Claire settled back down gingerly, as though worried jostling Abel would have him screaming. So far, he seemed pretty content in her arms though; she had a little more maternal warmth than she gave herself credit for. "He likes ya."

"I guess." She looked down at Abel, the baby grabbing a handful of her tunic-style black tank-top, and cooing up at her in a demanding fashion. "Then again, I think he might just be hungry." She smiled and gave him her finger to grab at, which Abel promptly put in his mouth. She didn't seem to mind. "So...is Tara Abel's mom?"

"Er...no. Jax's ex is Abel's mother."

"Really? I thought for sure Tara and Jax were together, so I just sort of assumed he was theirs."

"I think most of us woulda preferred it that way."

"Why?"

"I'll tell ya about it later." Chibs dodged the subject, seeing Wendy nearby, watching Claire like a hawk. If only she'd been that caring when she was pregnant. "Ya ever think of having kids?" He asked, watching Abel squirm around in her arms. He was so energetic it was hard to believe a few weeks ago they hadn't even known for sure he was going to make it out of the hospital.

She blinked at him, looking surprised. "What?"

"Kids. Ya want any?"

"No." She said it so quickly, he was almost shocked. She hadn't even hesitated.

"Any reason? Yer pretty good with Abel."

"Like I said. I'm no good with kids. Abel's just a sweetie." She looked down at him again, with that same look in her eyes, the one he couldn't describe, but he knew longing was definitely part of it. There was more to the story than that, he was certain, but he would bring it up again later. Gemma would murder him if he started any drama tonight, when there was already so much going on.

The night went well, despite Claire never truly seeming comfortable, and Tara walking out for a reason no one wanted to ask about. Chibs was really starting to think that everything might finally go back to being normal.

This was, of course, before murder was reported in Charming.

He knew then that all hell was about to break loose.

* * *

><p>Claire sat by a window, Gemma and Jax's ex, Wendy, she remembered Chibs telling her, stood in the kitchen, talking quietly. Everyone had left for home, save for the three of them, and the Club members had all gone to the scene, some to investigate, many to offer support to Opie. Murder, Chibs had told her simply, before asking her to wait here for him. Murder like he had seen it many times before.<p>

Donna had been killed and no one knew why.

Claire wrapped her bare arms around her middle, feeling cold all over. She hadn't known Donna all that well, but she had considered the other woman a friend. And no matter how she sliced it, she had never been any closer to a murder than the newspaper and the imaginative ones on crime shows. It hit way closer to home than she had ever expected it to.

"You okay baby?" She jolted, not realizing Gemma had walked in. The older woman offered her coffee, sitting in the chair near her.

"Yeah, I...I don't know," She confessed, taking the hot mug of coffee, staring at her own reflection in the dark liquid.

"It hit us all hard." Gemma soothed. She had trouble believing it with the Mama Bear. She seemed so untouchable, unbreakable. She probably had to be, for the people like Claire who didn't even know where to begin when it came to dealing with things like this.

"I just...I can't stop thinking about her kids. How is Opie going to explain it to them?"

"He's a good father, he'll be able to handle it. And they have us. We're a family Claire, all of us. We'll all pitch in to take care of them."

Claire met eyes with Gemma's, but looked away again a moment later. Family wasn't a subject she was so good with.

"Why Donna?" She asked the question aloud, but she wasn't sure who she expected to answer, or if she even wanted one.

"Because somebody fucked up, big time." The words were a low growl from Gemma's throat. But she softened again in seconds. "Did this...scare you?"

"I don't know. I guess. You barely even here about fist fights in Charming." Claire shrugged, sipping her coffee.

"That's not what I mean. Are you and Chibs going to stay together?"

"Uhm...I don't know if we're really together enough for me to make that decision," She mumbled, setting the ceramic mug on the side table.

"But you care about him, right?"

"Yes, of course I do. A lot. I just...I don't really know what that means."

_Liar. _She silently berated herself. She knew exactly what it meant. But she wasn't sure she wanted to get into the depth of her feelings at this moment.

"Listen, I'm just going to give this to you straight, sweetheart. Every once in awhile, the Club gets into some serious shit, and sometimes it blows back on us and the people we love. I'm not saying we're the reason for this, and I'm not saying murder is always how things play out. But, you stuck with him through the ATF shit, and I want to know whether you can handle something serious. Something like this."

"How am I supposed to say I can cope with murder?"

"You don't. I'm not asking you to cope. But...you know you'd break his heart if you left now, right?"

"What?"

"He's not the type to fall for just any girl the way he did with you, so you must have something special. And tonight, he's going to need you. You can work things out later, you can even stop seeing him if you really want. But, at least for the rest of the night, I want to ask you to be there for him."

Claire looked at her hands, her fingers clenched so tightly together that her knuckles were starting to turn white. This had been the kind of thing she would have preferred to hear from Chibs, though Gemma seemed pretty earnest. Even if she hadn't been, it didn't matter to Claire.

"You don't have to ask me to do that," She told Gemma, relaxing her hands with a conscious effort. Even if Chibs never felt the same way, it was alright. He'd made such a huge difference in her life these last few weeks, she could probably always love him just out of gratitude.

"I'm glad to hear it. I can rest a little easier if you'll be looking after him. Jax just called, they'll be back in a half-hour or so." Gemma leaned over and pressed a kiss on Claire's cheek, before standing and walking back into the kitchen. Claire's eyes returned to the window, thinking about the other things Gemma had said.

Deep down, she couldn't suppress dark thoughts of the future. Was this what it meant to be with Chibs? Was this what it would cost her? Losing friends, maybe her own life? Could she honestly willingly risk that?

After forty more minutes of staring out the window and wondering if she maybe should have driven herself, Claire heard a pair of twin engines and saw the lights pulling into the driveway. Knowing it was time she stopped imposing on Jax, she stood to slip into her coat and locate her helmet, meeting Jax in the foyer.

"Chibs is waiting for you."

"Okay. Uhm...thanks for having me here. And...I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." The apology barely made it past her lips. Sorry wouldn't make it better, she knew that, but she had no clue what would.

"I am too. Goodnight."

"Night." She slid past him to the open door, wondering if she could at least offer him a hug or something. She settled for touching his shoulder, feeling a hug might be too personal, considering his ex-wife was in the next room, and Jax clearly didn't need any more shit on his plate.

Chibs waited on the still-running bike, looking distracted and distant, and she couldn't blame him. As soon as she was near enough, his arms bolted around her tightly, pulling her in close without a word, her knees pressing against the side of the motorcycle. She couldn't tell if he was trying to comfort her, or seeking comfort himself, and it didn't matter. They clung to each other, and for several long seconds neither of them could find the strength to let go.

"I need a drink. Ya mind staying at the Clubhouse tonight?"

"No. I think I could use one too." She gave a weak head-shake against his shoulder.

A short ride later, they joined Juice at the bar, and, none of them able to muster a topic for conversation, they silently went through a bottle of alcohol. By the time she started to wonder what the stuff was, she was too drunk to comprehend the label. She leaned on Chibs, her head on his shoulder. He was solid, and he was safe, even in the midst of all this. Just like Gemma, he was stronger than her.

She didn't ask whose bed they climbed into in the wee hours of the morning, and it didn't really matter. All they did was curl up on the blankets, wrap themselves in each others' arms, and quietly try to fall asleep.

"Claire?"

"Hm?" She mumbled into his chest.

"Don't ever leave Charming."

The phrase took a moment to sink in. Even when it did, she wasn't sure she had heard right. "Leave?"

"I donno what I'd do if ya left. Just stay here...stay with me, okay?"

"I'm not going anywhere." Her hands tightened around his shirt. "I'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world."

The romantic inside her had always wanted to hear those words, had always wanted someone to need her.

And she was glad it was Chibs who did.


	8. Chapter 8

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Holy Crap. I feel like it's been forever since I posted. I don't know what it was, but I had a hell of a time with this chapter. The best analogy I came up with to describe how it made me feel was: 'It's like putting together a jigsaw puzzle when you're missing all the edge pieces.' I just could **not** get my shit together for some reason. I'm still not sure it's as good as I want it to be, but I also think trying to re-write it again is a moot point, and it won't improve it. So...I guess I apologize if the quality is below standard. I promise I'll make it up to you someday!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Labyrinth<strong>

His arms were empty. Chibs opened his eyes to confirm what he had already guessed. Claire was gone and the bed was cold; his fingers having attempted to grab open air. He wanted to sigh, but didn't quite have the energy.

Had he scared her off by asking her to stay? He remembered asking, vaguely, but couldn't for the life of him recollect what her reply had been. Had she even responded at all or had she simply gotten up and left? He really needed to work on this drunken blabbermouth habit of his. The idea of asking her not to leave had been lurking in his head since he'd found that necklace. He wouldn't have blamed her for returning, considering that was the kind of life she had used to live; it must have been hard to let go. But he had wanted to know whether she would stay just because he asked her to. On the other hand, it had probably seemed some sort of cruel test of loyalty after what had happened last night.

He didn't know whether he was willing to accept the vacant side of the bed as an answer.

She couldn't have gotten far, he was her ride. Deciding to chase her down, Chibs rolled to his feet, taking a moment to re-adjust to being vertical again, the hangover sloshing around in his head doing its best to prevent that. A few steps later, he felt more-or-less normal, and walked towards the door of his old room. Well, he supposed it was still technically his, he just ended up at Claire's more often than here lately.

He heard her voice from the kitchen, and was somehow relieved knowing she hadn't wanted to get away badly enough to ask for a ride. He figured it was a good sign. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her share soft words with Half-sack, who seemed more like a lost puppy than usual, wondering what she was thinking. Claire looked in his direction randomly, and offered a gentle smile. The Prospect excused himself immediately, probably thinking Chibs was still in a tizzy over what had happened before. Chibs didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise, finding it much too entertaining to watch Kip run like he'd pulled a gun on him.

"You want some coffee?" She asked, filling in the silence of Half-sack's departure, gesturing to the half-full coffee pot. "I made it, not sure how good it is though." He nodded, and she went about finding another mug.

"Didja sleep okay?" He circled the counter to stand by her, hand lightly on her back.

She shrugged. "I guess. Didn't get much, but I figured I would let you sleep instead of making a bunch of noise about getting to work. I just called in sick." She handed him the coffee, and set a carton of creamer and some sugar on the counter. "Jax was here a little bit ago. He said to tell you Church was in an hour, and I'm guessing he didn't mean the holy kind."

"No. He didn't." There was a silence while he sipped at the coffee. Wasn't half bad.

"So...what happens now?" She was looking at the counter, her hands clutched lightly at the edge.

"I donno sweetheart. It's not decided yet." Claire raised her eyes, something he couldn't identify flashing in them, her face remained passive.

"Who decides it?"

"We all do."

"I see." She looked back to the counter, releasing her grip and stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jeans instead. "Chibs, I don't want to have to visit you in prison somewhere, okay? Is that...too much to ask?"

"Yu'd visit me?" It was more surprising than it should have been. He realized that somewhere along the line, he had started painting her as the white light in his life. The kind of white light that would dim the minute she realized how dark the rest of his existence was. Would she really visit? Or would she see that as a wake-up call and get the hell away from him while she was able?

"Of course I would," She said softly, her arms crossing themselves loosely. "But I wouldn't be happy about it. If I'm going to keep seeing you, I want it to be face to face."

_If? _For some reason, that word stuck out more than the rest. Since when were they still at the stage of 'ifs'?

"I know you all cared about Donna, but...please don't do anything...you know, stupid. Or at the very least, don't get caught." Her hand settled on his arm. He wrapped his fingers around hers, clasping them tightly.

"It's all gonna work out sweetheart. Trust me."

"Okay." She nodded, and stepped close enough to lay her head on his shoulder.

He didn't bring up what he had said last night. Somehow, he guessed that Claire wasn't any more ready to face the implications in the light of day and sober than he was. Just another thing to push back and deal with when they were ready. Whenever the hell that may be. For some reason, he thought of the girl from two nights ago. He wouldn't say he was proud of that, but he didn't exactly regret it either. He did regret that it hadn't been Claire. Sex was one thing, but actually being with Claire was complicated, and he was starting to suspect that it always would be. Things with the other woman had been basic, nothing had come into play but a mutual desire to fuck. With Claire, it was like his whole life's worth of choices came down on him all at once; he had to keep secrets from Claire, he had to tell lies, and somewhere deep down, he hated the fact. He didn't even want to get into the details of the biggest lie, that being his still-valid marriage, to which he could now add essentially cheating on both his wife and his mistress -for lack of a better term- though he definitely didn't think of her that way. Regardless, apparently he had a chronic commitment problem.

"C'mon, I'll take ya home," He mumbled into her hair, pressing a light kiss on her temple. Claire nodded silently.

He hadn't gotten involved with Claire with the intention of caring about her, nor had he planned on bringing her into the Club, but lately it seemed like he had no control over the matter. He still didn't want her involved, he knew what happened when business and women mixed, and he had the scars to prove it. He wasn't going to repeat that mistake, and he wasn't going to let Claire follow the same path as Fiona, even though he was the one who would likely drag her in that direction. But, even knowing all this, Chibs couldn't bear the thought of letting her go. Did that make him selfish or besotted?

She said nothing the entire ride back to her house. It felt ominous. He wanted to break the silence, but couldn't think of anything cheerful to say, so he was quiet as well; until he followed her retreating back to the porch. There was no flower delivery today, he'd made sure of that. Chibs had gone by the flower shop on a whim, and told them to lose Claire's address, or he would let them know just where they could stick all those goddamned roses. He wondered if she noticed.

"Are ya gonna be here later?"

"Yeah. I called in sick, so I won't be going anywhere." She gave him a weak smile over her shoulder. He got the feeling there was just as much on her mind as there was on his. Maybe more, seeing as she had a whole hell of a lot more to lose than he did by trying to stick around.

"Y'mind if I come by?"

"Of course not."

"I'll uh...see ya then." He wanted desperately to kiss her, hold her, something. But she'd been giving off pretty steady 'no-no' beams since this morning, so he felt it best to keep a little distance between them for now. He turned to leave and give her the space she obviously wanted.

"Filip?" He pivoted again, this time walking right into her delicious kiss and a warm, strangely comforting hug. She pulled back what felt like milliseconds later, her expression soft. "No roses today. That was you, wasn't it?"

"I figured yu'd get sick of cleaning 'em up eventually." He shrugged, though secretly, he was a bit thrilled. More so considering the gesture seemed to have broken the iced-over layer Claire had been hiding behind.

"Thank you. Really. I...I've always been a bit of a pushover. Especially when it comes to my family."

"S'okay. I'm the kinda guy who likes to corrupt innocent young things like yerself."

"Not so young anymore Chibs. Probably not too innocent either."

"Both are good by me." He threaded his fingers through the hair at her nape, feeling a tensed knot forming in the delicate muscles of her neck. As far as he was concerned, there wasn't a damned thing wrong with her. Except maybe that pushover bit she had just mentioned. "Can I ask ya something?"

"Like what?" Her eyes drooped a little as she leaned back into his hand, Chibs hadn't realized he had been absently attempting to massage the tension away. Seemed to be working though.

"Why'd ya keep the necklace?"

Her eyes opened again, and he could see the icy wall coming back into place. "I don't know," She mumbled. "I guess I just...don't have the heart to throw it out." She paused, looking at her feet. "Are you angry?"

"No sweetheart. Just hopeful." He dropped his hand, forcing his smile a little. Hopeful that she would tell him she was only holding onto it to pawn on a rainy day. Hopeful that she would tell him it didn't mean anything to her. Hopeful that a pricey diamond necklace wasn't enough to change her mind about living in Charming. But that...that had sounded more like she was starting to see the appeal of a financially comfortable life without the police giving her suspicious glances and bikers who were more or less criminals as her only allies. Maybe Donna's murder was the wake-up call he had been worried about.

"Chibs-"

"Can't miss Church lovely. I'll still be by later tonight."

"You could have a little more faith in me. I'm not so easily bought," She muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He couldn't think of anything to say that would make him sound like less of an asshole.

* * *

><p>Claire stood on the porch for a long time after Chibs had gone, just...thinking. She didn't think she was so easily bought; but maybe Chibs wasn't so wrong to doubt her. Not only had she not gotten rid of the stupid necklace, she had been leaving it out in the open too. To him, that probably looked like temptation. To her, it was something to spit at every morning.<p>

All the same, it seemed he didn't remember that she'd said she wouldn't be going anywhere. Maybe that was what was irking her, more than anything else. After all, that wasn't something you really asked of someone casually. Or was it? She knew, or perhaps merely guessed from his reaction to Half-sack's meager flirtation, that Chibs was a little possessive. Not in a way that set of any alarms, so far anyway, but had that been his idea of trying to keep her close? In spite of, or perhaps, because of what had happened to Donna?

She wasn't keen on being manipulated or tested, especially by someone she continually trusted more and more the longer she was with him.

These thoughts weighing heavy in her mind, Claire turned and entered her house, walking directly to her bedroom. The necklace sparkled back at her in a cheery fashion and it made her more hostile than usual. She slammed the lid shut on the jewels, picking it up and flinging the box across the room. She wished she could just pawn the stupid thing, but some small part of her really wanted to believe it had been a gift of legitimate love from her father. Unable to think of anything better to do with it for the time being, she left it where it was and headed for the shower.

He didn't come back until late that night. Claire had guessed as much, when she hadn't seen nor heard from him several hours after he left. So, she had simply left the door unlocked and headed to bed, the previous night's events and the lack of sleep making her feel wiped-out and exhausted. She woke vaguely when she heard the familiar sound of his motorcycle, but was scarcely aware he had entered her room until Chibs laid a light hand on her arm.

"Hey..." She rolled over to sleepily greet him.

"Ya didn't have to toss it sweetheart. It was just a question." He set the velvet box next to her on the mattress, but the way he handled it gave the impression he thought it might burn his hand.

"I was angry," She said with a shrug. A silence settled in the room, Chibs standing stoically wordless by the bed, Claire tapping her fingernails lightly on the the lid of the jewelry box. "Are you alright?" She finally asked, finding the silence troubling.

"Yeah I...No-" He shook his head, sounding disbelieving, "-No, I'm not fucking alright." Chibs sat heavily on the foot of the bed, putting his head in his hands.

"What happened?" She pulled herself to sitting, brushing her fingers against his.

"I almost did something really fucked up."

She balked, not liking the sound of that one bit. But she pressed on, unsure why. Morbid curiosity? Suspicion? Fear? Claire would put her money on the latter. Donna had been a streak of horrid reality on the fantasy canvas she had started to draw her life on. The life that involved Chibs, though she was finally beginning to understand why Hale had told her to get out while she could. There was a lot that had happened the last few days to terrify her, almost enough to walk away.

Almost.

"Filip? What happened?" She wanted to understand, more than anything. Maybe she needed to understand.

He glanced at her, a vaguely confused expression on his face, before he sighed and his head drooped a little. "Yer not gonna like it."

"I know. It's okay. I know I told you I didn't want to know, that I didn't want to get involved, but...so far that's not making anything better. I want to know you trust me enough to tell me." He looked over at her again, and this time, Claire knew he was watching her face, watching her reaction. Chibs sighed, and spoke.

"I almost hurt somebody... almost helped kill somebody, who'd probably never done a wrong thing in their life...she was only a kid."

"Why?" The word seemed more a squeak.

"Cuz she was gonna put Opie and Bobby away for life. We couldn't let that happen, it woulda come back and hit us all."

A lump formed in Claire's throat. She wasn't angry, upset, scared, or anything really. She wasn't sure what she felt. "Did you?"

"Kill her? No. But I donno...everything's going to hell sweetheart." Chibs dragged a tired hand over his face.

"Is there something I can do to help?" She asked the question without thinking, but, after it had passed her lips, she knew she meant it. She wasn't ready to give everything up to SAMCRO the way Gemma or some of the other Old Ladies had, though she wasn't sure where she would end up drawing the line either.

"No, I'd rather ya not. Don't wanna let ya turn out like me."

"Might not be such a terrible thing. You seem alright to me."

"Ya haven't seen my bad side yet."

"Oh." As was often the case, she wasn't sure what she was meant to read into that. What in the world was Chibs' bad side like? Would she ever see it or would he always hide it from her? Like so many other things, she still didn't have straight answers about it, nor did she really expect them. That, she hated to admit, was the part that scared her the most. The fact that he wouldn't tell her anything spoke volumes to her.

Another silence settled into the room, this one leaning more towards the uncomfortable side.

"Chibs...if it hadn't been the girl, would you have killed the person for the Club? No questions asked?" He went noticeably still, tense, and his eyes shifted to the wall. That was answer enough. "How is that any less fucked up?" She asked, her voice quiet. She hated how she sounded so scathing, so judgmental, but she couldn't help it. She had never liked the idea of people being seen as obstacles to be removed, the main reason she had failed to become a CEO. This was several levels above something as simple as firing an inefficient worker though, she wasn't sure the two scenarios could even be compared. The next words out of her mouth were ones she didn't even want to think, let alone say aloud. But she did, and she had to know what he would say. "Is that what happened to Donna? Was she going to tell someone what you guys really do?"

Chibs stood up so fast the mattress scooted a few centimeters, and he looked livid. "Don't ya even fuckin' insinuate that," He nearly growled, pointing a finger in her face.

"What if I told Hale what you just told me? Would you have to shoot me?"

"No. I wouldn't shoot ya. But I won't say the same for the others."

She flinched. He may not have intended it that way, but that had definitely sounded like a threat. But, no matter how she tried to be angry, or scared, or have some other normal reaction, she just couldn't. She could only press on and try to find some sort of common ground to stand on again.

"So long as it's not you who pulls the trigger it's fine then?"

"No- I fuckin'- what the hell do you want from me?" He tossed up his hands in a way that said he was sick and tired of the conversation. What had he expected? Her to say that she was perfectly alright with the Club making anything and everything sound moral and acceptable? She didn't care what the code of biker ethics was, it wasn't hers.

And from the look of things, never could be.

"I don't know anymore," She confessed sullenly, but honestly. As cliché as it sounded, she wasn't even sure she really knew what kind of person Chibs was now-a-days. She couldn't seem to have the same perception of him as she had just days ago. Everything had been turned ass-over-tea kettle. "Chibs...I...I think I need some time. You know, alone. I don't think I can handle anymore."

"Alone. Right," Chibs snorted. He turned to the door, picking up the book on her nightstand and throwing it at the wall with a ferocity that made her flinch a second time, unsure how much of that anger was directed her way. It thumped heavily against the wall, Chibs storming out in it's wake. She couldn't make herself go after him. She couldn't even make herself try. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in a little ball and cry.

* * *

><p>The Clubhouse was empty, which gave Chibs an open shot at whatever booze happened to be sitting behind the counter at the moment. He sat himself down moments later with a bottle of Jack Daniels, not exactly his favorite but the most readily available, and a glass that most certainly wasn't a shot glass. He didn't really care all that much.<p>

Goddamn Claire.

Chibs had long ago divided women up into two categories. Women he cared for, and women he fucked. Claire was, or perhaps, had been, one of the rare cases that overlapped; though one would think that he would have learned to keep them separate, or altogether avoid women who even gave him an inkling of trying to manage both. Seeing as it always seemed to end in disaster. But something about her made that goddamn impossible. He couldn't have stayed away from her if she had told him where to stick it from day one. Just like Fiona, Claire was addictive. But where it had been the teetering on the edge that had made his heart jump for his wife, the general danger of pissing her off that he had found exciting, with Claire it had always been just how painfully sweet she was. She was gentle and loving and insecure, all the things Fiona was not, all the things that made him want to tuck her under his arm and protect her.

But he couldn't really do that when his way of life was what she ended up needing protection from.

He shot a glare over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps, and met eyes with Juice. Was it too much to ask he had some freaking time alone to stew in his anger which would likely morph into a depressing slump within a few hours? Apparently so, as Juice crossed the bar floor and took the stool next to Chibs, either ignoring or not noticing the nasty look.

"Where's the tight little red-head that's been following you around?"

"Don't even-" Chibs started, only to have her words come back and slap him in the face. _Can't handle anymore. _As best he could figure, that had been Claire's way of telling him to fuck-off. Permanently. Not that he could necessarily blame her. He had definitely crossed some sort of line. Though that tended to be just the trouble, he had no idea where lines with Claire were. Neither of them had taken the time to sort it out. Then again, it probably had more than a little to do with the fact he admitted to almost killing a young girl, just for doing what Claire likely would have done in the same situation, and implying that murder was a fairly common occurrence. "Fuck it. Never mind." He went back to his drink. "Ya likely won't be seein' her around fer a good long while."

"I thought you liked her?"

"Yer point?"

"I dunno. Seemed like everyone thought she was gonna make you settle down or something." Juice shrugged, and, knowing better than to try and separate Chibs from his alcohol, fetched himself a bottle to pour into his own glass, reasonably smaller than the one Chibs was using.

"No chances of that _ever_ happenin' again brother," Chibs snorted into the whiskey. For one long moment, just long enough for Chibs to think he'd get some peace, Juice was silent. But the younger Son finished off his brandy glass of whiskey and poured another, before turning back to Chibs.

"Jax stopped you today, didn't he?"

"Yeah. He did."

"Him and Clay are gonna kill each other if this shit keeps up."

"S'fucking obvious," Chibs agreed, in no mood to debate it further. He had enough on his mind. He patted his pockets for cigarettes, finding only a crumpled, empty pack. Odd, he could have sworn he had bought a new one. Right. It was sitting on Claire's kitchen table. "Dammit." He threw the wadded paper at the wall. She was wrapped up in every aspect of his freaking life all of a sudden. Chibs slid off the bar stool, taking the bottle of whiskey by the neck and turning to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To find me a fuckin' blonde," Chibs grumbled, more to himself than Juice.

* * *

><p>The procession to Donna's burial was a grand affair, all the charters riding together, the sounds of Harley engines rumbling through the ground for miles around. Never mind that it was murder on Chibs' already aching head, though he was careful not to let anyone else notice. It wasn't a bad ache, but nothing was helping. Maybe it was karma biting him in the ass for his passive-aggressive behavior.<p>

Claire shut him out for the first time since he had known her, and what did he do? Get smashed, go out, and hit a couple of skinny blondes. That was more or less a stone-cold dick-move even by his standards. Though, in his defense, it was difficult to say he regretted something he couldn't full well remember.

He shook his head a little to himself, dismounting alongside the rest of the Club. Not like it mattered. She'd probably never know, and if she did, he seriously doubted she would care. He had never been able to tell what she felt for certain, but it was over and done now. Still, he wondered if he had the right to call-out Ben for being an asshole. He hadn't proved himself much better.

These thoughts stopped cold when he spotted the familiar short, flippy hairstyle, not quite red, not quite brown, perched over a black dress that caressed her from neck to knees, shifting her feet awkwardly in black heels.

She didn't approach him, likely feeling it was inappropriate in front of all the other Sons. They both waited until most had moved on to the plot where the service was taking place before either made a move toward the other. The tension between them grated on his nerves instantly.

"Yer here," He observed the obvious, waiting for her to tell him the meaning.

"Chibs...I don't know what I'm doing." She pressed a hand over her mouth, muffling what he guessed had almost been a sob. She looked at her feet while she continued. "I don't even know why I came here." She turned on her heel, perhaps planning to run away, but he wasn't keen on letting that happen, reaching out and snagging her free hand. She froze the way a rabbit did when it was cornered. Frightened. Dear Christ, she was scared of him. Consciously, he loosened his grip on her hand, though it didn't seem to relax her any.

"It's good yer here, Donna was yer friend. And I'm glad ya are sweetheart."

Her shoulders sagged as she looked back at him, her hand dropping loosely to her side, the other staying limply clasped in his fingers, feeling unusually frail. "Can things ever go back to the way they were?"

"Probably not." Chibs shook his head, more because he knew the bomb he'd dropped last night was never going to be far from her mind than anything else. Was it so bad he had gotten sick and tired of keeping the fucking lies straight? "Ya gonna tell Hale?" She shook her head silently. "Ya want me to leave ya alone?" Another head-shake, this one seeming meek.

Even if she didn't admit why she was here, he knew it well enough, had guessed by now that those three little words were lingering on the tip of her tongue. And from the look of things, it was real. A cold sensation settled in his stomach, and he didn't know why.

"I understand that it would have been to protect your friends," She said suddenly. "I guess it's just a strange concept to me, caring enough about someone to risk everything like that, to be willing to kill for them. I've never known that things could really be that way."

"They're not friends sweetheart, they're brothers."

She nodded, but her eyes had averted back to the ground. "Did you mean what you said?"

"What?"

"When you asked me to stay the other night. Did you mean it? Because if you want me to, I will. But you can't just tie me down, I want to know what I'm going to end up getting in to. If you can break it to me slowly, I can stay."

"Things might only get worse."

"I know." She turned her eyes toward the funeral ceremony being set up for Donna less than fifty feet away. "But I don't know if staying out of it is really an option. Donna probably didn't even know why she'd been a target. If that's the way it has to be, I'd prefer to know the reason I'm dying."

The cold acceptance of the worst possible outcome was like a swift kick to Chibs' ribcage. If he had started telling her the truth sooner, she would most likely still be able to walk away. But he hadn't. They both knew that if anything happened to her, it would likely be because of him.

"I won't let anything like that happen to ya." That was the best he could do for now. And he didn't even know for certain that was a promise he could keep or he was just trying to comfort her.

Claire nodded, though convinced wasn't the word he'd use to describe her reaction, and without further words, they walked to join the other Sons and the women of various titles surrounding the casket.

If he could change the way things had gone, he would. But he was only human, he could only work with what he had.

By the time the service ended, her frail-feeling little fingers had regained some of their strength, and she was returning the gentle grip on his hand.

Something was going to give, sooner or later. It was just a matter of what.


	9. Chapter 9

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Wow. Hi guys. been ages. Again. Sorry I haven't been real punctual with my updates, but I get really, really easily distracted sometimes. D: Anyway, this chapter is a bit longer than usual, so I hope that compensates for the lack of posting for a good long while. Also, had to tweak this one quite a bit, same as the last time. Other than that, a huge Thank You to Roman Lizzy, who did the Beta. It's much appreciated!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Credence<strong>

"Chibs, where did my shirt end up?"

"Donno sweetheart, yer the one that threw it." Claire responded to his statement with a muted eye roll, rooting around in the pile of laundry at the foot of the bed, temporarily stuck wearing her jeans and bra. One would think it would be easy to find the bright and frilly peach-colored tank-top in the mess of his black or otherwise dark clothing littering the floor.

"You live like a college kid, you know that?" She added smiling lightly, finally unearthing the missing clothing from beneath his cut tossed on the chair, sliding it over her head. He frowned, having not had his fill of her bare breasts yet. Or at the very least, breasts covered only in the sheer lace of her new bra, which was almost sexier than her wearing nothing. "I almost expect to find some moldy pizza in here."

"C'mon, it's not that bad, it's only clothes," Chibs scoffed, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her jeans and pulling her unceremoniously down on the bed, which he had yet to even get up from. She came easily enough, but caught herself on her forearms, chest tantalizingly close, giving him a tight-lipped smile that said she wasn't going to be seduced so easily. "Stay longer." His hands settled over the familiar curves under her jeans, and he buried his face against the soft ruffles of her shirt, inhaling the perfume he had come to adore.

"I can't. I have to go back to work."

"Call in."

"I can't do that either. I already used my vacation days this month." Still, she wasn't putting up too much of a fight, and he could feel her nipples pebbling through the light material of her shirt. She was probably regretting wearing that sexy bra about now. "You're being a real pain Chibs."

"I'm horny," He replied casually, lightly circling his lips over the little peak hidden under the faux-silk and lace. He felt like he could taste her, despite the fabric, but maybe it was just his memory from about ten minutes ago. Her breath puffed out in an aroused sigh, and Chibs slid his knee between her thighs, trying his damnedest to convince her she wasn't ready to leave yet either. Fact of the matter was, sex was more or less the only contact they'd had the last few days anyway. Talking had been minimal, even though she knew he would answer her questions if she asked. She just hadn't asked. Honesty was now the policy, but it had yet to be fully implemented.

That had been his original plan in having her over to the garage, discussing things that is, but she had let it slip that Gemma had helped her pick out lingerie, and that was that; talking had no longer been a priority. Though he wasn't sure why she and Gemma had gone underwear shopping together.

"You're always horny." Her fingers tunneled into his hair, though in an indecisive fashion, she couldn't seem to decide whether she wanted to hold him close or push him back. He shrugged as best he could manage, swirling his tongue over the fabric-clad pearl in his mouth, dampening the material further, the nipple beneath tightening even more. "Chibs..." She drew the vowel out in the fashion of a babysitter talking to a younger charge, but it was lost under the little moan she tried to muffle. "Please, I don't want to lose my job."

He sighed, but dropped his head back to the pillow, frowning up at her just a bit. "Ya know Ruth loves ya too much to fire you."

"Yeah, but I'd feel like I was taking advantage of her trust." She pushed herself up so that she was sitting at his side, running her fingers through her hair, probably trying to make it look like she hadn't just been ravished in forty minutes flat. Never mind that her shirt got fairly transparent when wet. A gentleman would have said so, but Chibs was far from such, and he rather enjoyed the subtle, sexual view. Just so long as it dried before she left.

Christ, the woman made him feel like he was possessed. She could have him at her beck and call with a flick of that pretty head, and some days, he almost wished she would make it so. He had long since decided Claire was not for sharing, and he knew he'd surely be snapping the fingers off of any man who dared lay them on her. She, on the other hand, was stubbornly non-confrontational. Even if she knew about his indiscretions recently, she probably wouldn't even question him. She would more likely leave, somehow bringing the blame back to herself rather than lashing out, at him or the other girls. All the more reason to keep that quiet, even if she did ask. He wasn't going to let her go, especially not over something he considered trivial.

"My brother called me yesterday." She dropped the statement out of the blue.

"Yer brother? What'd he want?" Chibs propped himself up on his elbows, locating a cigarette from the nightstand, but realized moments later his lighter was in his cut pocket on the chair, so he merely set it aside for later. He didn't think Claire was fond of him smoking in bed, she definitely never let him have cigarettes in her bed at least.

"He never really said." Claire shrugged, finally noticing her nipple was more or less visible, and gingerly trying to rub the saliva out. He flattened his lips into a line to make sure she didn't think he was laughing at her while she blushed faintly; she'd probably never let him get away with it again if she thought he was only doing it to embarrass her. "I think he was drunk. Sounded like my Father may be getting worse. Liam hasn't really had the time to actually grow up yet, so I think he's taking it pretty hard."

"How are ya taking it?" Chibs questioned, realizing he had never asked since hearing about her Father's heart problems.

"I don't know." Claire rose from the bed, her shirt not quite dry yet, which she remedied by strategically placing a ruffle over the moist spot, and gathered her purse from near the door. "Part of me can't wait for him to get out of my hair forever, however cruel that may sound, part of me still can't believe it, and a very, very small part is sort of sad about it. He is my Father after all, even if that word doesn't mean much to him. But he said he had at least another year to live, so I guess I have a year to decide how I feel about it."

"Don'cha get a whopper of an inheritance when he dies?"

She paused, her mind seeming to wander. "Yeah. I guess I do. I'd nearly forgotten about that. Maybe I'll go back to school and get a master's degree or something."

"_That's _what yer gonna spend a shit-ton of money on?"

"Yeah. What would you spend it on?" She raised an eyebrow, and Chibs could only shrug.

"Dunno." That was a lie. If he ever happened to come into a large sum of money, he would probably put in Kerrianne's college fund. If Fiona would let him, which was a colossal toss-up. If not that, it would more than likely just go to the Club.

"I don't know if it really matters though. I'm pretty sure he might have written me out of the will when I mailed the necklace back to him."

"Is that what ya finally did with it?" He asked, genuinely surprised.

Claire nodded. "I didn't have the heart to pawn it. I don't think I really want to know how much it cost anyway."

"I kinda did."

"Yeah? You want to know how much I'm worth?" She chided, though it was difficult to tell whether she was joking or not.

"Nah. I know." Chibs shrugged. "He never coulda afforded it."

"Are we still talking about money? Because if I had a price, I'm pretty sure my Father could afford it."

"Nope. There are some things that can't be bought sweetheart. Yer one of 'em."

Claire smiled down at him, still sprawled comfortably in the sheets they had been tearing up only minutes before. He could see how much she wanted to jump back in, but she was far too reserved for such a thing; though she knew he'd only encourage her, she still seemed to have some reluctance about being aggressive. "Do you plan things like that?"

"Like what?"

"Saying such sweet things with that sexy accent of yours. A girl could lose her heart listening to that."

"I hadda practice that one a couple times." She smiled, obviously knowing it was a joke.

"You're really very sweet Filip. But work is work, and I've got to go."

"Fine." He relented, knowing that Claire was just too damned respectable to skip out on work, even if it meant a more extensive roll in the hay. "Gimme a kiss first." Still smiling, she leaned over him and they shared a moment of a slow, languid kiss, before she rose from the mattress and headed for the door.

"See you tonight Chibs. Dinner's at seven."

"Like always," He said aloud, watching that gloriously curved ass of hers disappear to the other side of the door. They talked about dinner after fucking. Jesus Christ. They were acting like a married couple.

The thought should have terrified him. It didn't.

What did worry him, just enough to keep worming its way into his mind, was that she wasn't open with him the way she used to be. Not about anything important anyway. The mention of her brother calling her had been the first slip into something personal, something other than the mundane, safe topics she had been stubbornly sticking to since Donna's funeral. He could understand why, but he didn't like it one damn bit. Fiona had pulled away from him in a similar fashion, before all hell had broke loose in Ireland so long ago. He didn't want to admit it, but the similarities were starting to scare the shit out of him.

It seemed like the only time they connected now was when they were in bed, and then, it wasn't like they could have a lengthy discussion about why they were having so much trouble trusting each other.

Huffing an annoyed grunt at the ceiling, Chibs convinced his tired limbs to haul his spent ass out of bed, wondering if anyone had noticed he had disappeared for forty-five minutes. He thought of showering, but decided against it almost immediately. He liked it when Claire's scent, the sex and oranges, clung to him for a little while afterwords. It was a strange, sentimental sort of thing, and it always made him hungry for her by the time he got his hands on her again. Dressing, Chibs followed her trail out the door, meaning to return to the garage, but paused at the sound of a clucking tongue.

He turned and found Tig leaning on a door frame, a disturbingly predatory smile on his face. Really, it was less like a smile, and more like he was just baring his teeth. But Tig's expression was always pretty close to that. It was nearly impossible to ever legitimately read him based on his facial movements. They were usually deceiving.

"You've got the sweet little princess sneaking in here to fuck you on her lunches? That's just fucking classy brother."

"I wouldn't go so far as to call her a princess, but sweet she most definitely is," Chibs responded mildly, firing up the cigarette he had been saving.

"Is she now?" Tig deliberately made it obvious his eyes turned in the direction Chibs assumed Claire had gone moments before.

"Don't even think about it."

"Hey now, we've already established she's a no-go." Tig raised his hands, apparently trying to look innocent, though it wasn't really necessary. Chibs knew Tig was only doing this because he really enjoyed stirring things up, especially when things in the clubhouse were tense. It was his own way of trying to cheer everyone up. By distracting them with petty conflicts. "I was just thinking about how much you two make me think of "Lady and the Tramp"."

"What?" Chibs felt his eyebrow arch up.

"My kid made me watch it once," Tig defended, in a rather grudging fashion nonetheless.

"Right." Chibs nodded, though he did have to wonder at Tig sitting through any film that did not involve tits. Lots and lots of tits. "They end up together in the end?" He asked impulsively, curious despite himself.

Tig gave a derisive snort. "Fuck if I know. I slept through most of it."

Well, that answered that.

* * *

><p>Claire felt daring.<p>

That is to say, she was actually trying to follow a recipe in a cookbook rather than make something out of a box. Probably a bad idea, she had never been handy in the kitchen, but it never hurt to try. And, so far, it had been a relatively successful venture. Her pepper-and-wine chicken had gone well, the garlic bread was in the oven and toasting slowly, angel-hair pasta was nearly ready, and all that was left was the salad. Though she figured that would be the easy part.

Armed with a knife and a bag full of fresh produce, Claire went to town on the veggies tossing them into the bowl as she chopped, singing along to The Black Keys blaring from her Ipod dock on the counter. It was going to be a good night.

Nearly done with the salad, Claire observed what was stacked in the bowl, and decided to add a couple more pieces of tomato. Reaching for the last of them on the counter, she placed it carefully on the board, and suddenly felt hands grab her hips. Screaming, she jolted sideways, only to remember too late that she was holding the knife, poised over her hand steadying the tomato she had been about to slice. The result of the moment of pure terror was a deep slice into her hand, between her thumb and index finger, blood gushing the way she thought only happened in movies, and an equally startled Chibs giving her a wide berth, until his eyes darted to her bleeding hand.

"Uh-" Claire started, unsure what to say in such a situation, dropping the knife back to the counter, and also eyeing the blood dripping onto the tiles.

"Shit!" He rushed toward her and grabbed her by the wrist, lifting her hand until it was level with her head, his other arm coming around her shoulders so that he could pull her to the kitchen table, more or less forcing her into the nearest chair. "Elevate it," Chibs ordered simply, as he turned and grabbed a towel from the counter, wrapping it around her hand like he knew exactly what he was doing, shutting off the music with an impatient jab of his finger. "Keep pressure on that sweetheart," He instructed, guiding her other hand up and pressing her fingers over the wound. "Ya got some kinda first aid kit anywhere?"

She nodded. "Bathroom, second drawer." He was down the hall and back in a flash, the plastic container and a bottle of disinfectant in his hands. He set both on the table next to her, opening the kit before reaching to her hand again.

"Alright, lemme see." He pulled the towel away gingerly, grimacing at whatever was beneath it, which he was careful to shield from her view. "Pretty deep," He muttered, though she was unable to tell whether it was directed at her or he was talking to himself, he replaced the towel and her fingers, preparing a cotton pad soaked in the disinfectant.

"They teach you this kind of thing in mechanic school?" She asked, watching him, amazed at how quickly he seemed to know exactly what to do, and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her hand.

"Nope. I learned in the army." He removed the towel again, pressing the cotton pad over the cut. It stung, but she was able to grit her teeth and not show it much.

"You were in the army?"

He smirked a little at her tone. "Don't believe me?" He tossed the cotton to the table, and she couldn't help but reel at how much blood was present on it. He replaced it with a fresh one, fishing gauze from the bottom of the kit.

"No, it just...that's really not something I would expect that's all." She shrugged.

"Well, I was; went in as a medic. Got court-martialed not long after though, if that makes it anymore believable for ya."

"A little. You don't strike me as the sort who's real good at following orders." Rather, she knew he wasn't. She was also willing to hazard a guess that he had been court-martialed for something relative to misconduct. "Why did you want to serve?"

"It was more a matter of money then wanting to." He shrugged, winding the gauze around her hand tightly. "Doesn't look like ya need stitches or anything. Lotta blood though."

"I was always a bleeder." Claire shrugged, smiling up at him while he taped her bandage down. "My Mother would always talk about how paper cuts meant a trip to the hospital so I could get a blood transfusion."

He wiggled her fingers, presumably checking to make sure they were all still in working order, then bent his head and kissed her knuckles tenderly. "Sorry I scared ya sweetheart, didn't know ya were holding the fucking butcher knife."

"Firstly, that's a steak knife. If it had been a butcher knife, I don't think I'd have my thumb anymore. Secondly, it's not your fault. I had the music up so loud I probably wouldn't have heard a 747 landing in the yard." She smiled a little wider. "Besides, I made dinner and I'm proud of it. That almost makes it worthwhile."

"Suppose we can call this a battle scar then." Chibs smirked back.

He fixed a single plate and fed them both from it, insisting that she shouldn't use her hand until it had time to start healing. It was really very sweet and romantic, despite being fairly awkward.

"Bobby's getting back tomorrow," Chibs stated, holding a bite of chicken out to her on the fork. "Gonna be a party."

"Are we going?" She questioned, before opening her mouth to accept the chicken.

"I dunno if ya would really wanna. It's gonna get pretty crazy."

"I can handle craziness." Claire felt her eyebrow curve, perhaps, despite herself, a little suspicious of just how crazy it would be if Chibs was hesitant to take her.

"I mean, real fuckin' insane," Chibs amended. "It'd probably traumatize ya."

"I think I can handle it Chibs. I promise I won't start crying and embarrass you or anything."

"Ya really wanna go?"

"Mhm." Claire nodded, reaching for a piece of garlic bread, figuring she could manage that with only her left hand. "I feel like we haven't done anything fun since...since you know." _The funeral. _And she was still hesitant to bring it up in casual conversation. Opie was still reeling over it, not that anyone would dare blame him for that, and any time the subject came up around Jax, he went into brooding mode. It seemed best to simply leave it alone.

"Suppose yer right."

"Besides, Gemma helped me pick out a dress while we were shopping. I could use an excuse to wear it."

"When did the two of ya start spending so much time together? Shopping for lingerie and shit no less."

Claire shrugged. "I just bumped into her the other day is all, so I asked her what kind of stuff you liked, and then, before I knew it, I had a bunch of risque clothing. I'm still not totally sure how she talked me into most of it."

Of course, they had also had a long, meaningful conversation. She had the feeling Gemma had sought her out for just that, and the shopping was little more than an excuse to spend part of the day with her and talk. Gemma had told her she thought Claire was good for Chibs, that she kept him grounded, calmed him down a little. If Claire didn't know any better, she would think Gemma sort of liked her, and wanted to bring her into the family fold that was the Sons of Anarchy. Apparently, whatever had made Mama Bear hesitant about her before was no longer an issue, and Gemma had decided she was free to pursue Chibs.

"Ya coulda asked me." She zeroed in on the carefully covered note of hurt in his voice. Maybe not hurt exactly, but Chibs seemed disappointed that she hadn't asked him directly.

"Maybe I wanted to surprise you?" And she had a little bit, but she had intended to buy maybe one or two bra and panty sets. Once Gemma had gotten involved, it had gone to a whole new level. She had a pair of lace-topped thigh-highs, a garter belt, a corset, and more pairs of lacy, silky, gossamer panties than she could even fit in her underwear drawer, along with a gauzy negligee that looked like it belonged in Playboy; not to mention a few plunging, ultra-push-up bras, and the sheer one she was wearing today. And of course, the dress. The dress Claire never would have dared try and squeeze her not-exactly-athletic frame into before Gemma had insisted.

A faux-satin, bright turquoise, keyhole halter dress; that for all intents and purposes showed as much erogenous skin as possible. The cut-out of the bust dipped low-enough to expose more cleavage than she was really comfortable with, it hugged in at the waist, and it wasn't very long either. If she did decide she was brave enough to wear it to the party, she most definitely planned to wear a long sweater the entire night. As far as she was concerned, the dress, like the lingerie, was meant to only be seen by Chibs. Or at the very least, she wasn't going to go parading around in it unnecessarily in front of the other Sons.

"Besides, I get the feeling if I asked you, you would have told me _not _to buy anything," Claire added, giving his chest a little poke.

Chibs seemed to mull this over for a moment. "Suppose yer right. As far as I'm concerned, anything that takes more than thirty seconds to get back off of ya is just a cock-block. I'm more a fan of ya being naked," He gave her a wicked smirk, and she got the feeling he was implying he would prefer her naked right that second. Although the crooked smile faded into something else in the moments following; the same gentle look he gave her every once in awhile that often made her wonder if she ought to tell him how she felt. "Ya sure ya wanna go to the party?"

"Yeah. I really think it's a good idea. I think it will be good to go and try to forget about all the dark stuff that's been happening, you know?"

"Yeah. I know what ya mean." Chibs nodded, a little more solemnly than she would have expected.

* * *

><p>When Claire had said 'dress', Chibs had assumed she meant something classy, something reserved, something like the dress she had worn to the funeral. However, that evidently wasn't what she had meant. It wasn't even close.<p>

When he set eyes on her in that little blue number, he was fairly certain all his blood abruptly left his brain and went straight to his cock. She looked like a wary little Playboy angel, sitting at the bar with a beer clutched in her nervous fingers, awkwardly trying to hide all those gorgeous curves underneath her gray sweater. Even the heavy bandage wrapped around her hand couldn't deter from just how goddamn sexy she was. Not that she would ever think of herself as being so, she was much too shy.

God help him to not walk up to the bar and fuck her right there. Or snap Juice's head off if he kept ogling.

Chibs sidled around a group of crow-eaters so he could sneak up behind her, and did just that; sliding hands over her exposed thighs and tenderly licking her ear all in the same motion. Her first reaction was a gasp, the second was her relaxing back against him.

"What did I tell you? You need to wear a bell Chibs. I seriously almost just slapped you." She tilted her head to look at him, her neck reclining in the crook of his shoulder.

"If it was anyone else doin' this to ya, _I'd _be doing the slapping," Chibs promised, kneading fingers into her legs lightly. She squirmed, and he knew exactly why, smiling into her hair. "Ya just missed the Nazis."

"Nazis?" Her stunned voice belied her neutral expression. "What were you doing with Nazis?"

"Telling 'em to leave before Tig shot their boss in the face."

"Oh."

"What? Didja think I'm a Nazi or something?" He took a step away to raise an incredulous eyebrow at her, and also examine how nicely the dress molded to her ass. He'd bet she couldn't and hadn't worn any panties. If she had been too nervous to go commando, which was likely, it had to be a thong. Either way, he was not going to complain; whichever it was, it made getting in her pants that much easier.

"No. I'm just relieved to know you're not doing business with them, that's all." She turned on her bar stool to face him, and it honestly took Chibs a moment to look away from the framed cleavage to meet her eyes. She was blushing, and he got the feeling his hungry expression gave his dirty-as-all-hell thoughts away. Thoughts that involved Claire up against a door in whatever room was available, thoughts that had her bent over a table because he knew he wouldn't make it to a bed, thoughts that involved getting that dress off in as many creative ways as he could think of. And he had a pretty ample imagination.

"Ya wore that on purpose, didn't ya?" He asked, sliding a hand gently between her knees, which had been firmly pressed together. They slackened, if only slightly, allowing him to lightly brush her inner thighs. Dear god, he loved having such an easy time getting to her bare skin.

"No I didn't." She was still squirming, and he loved it.

"Yes ya did. Ya wanted me to get wound all tight, didn't ya?"

"Only a little," She confessed quietly. Claire wriggled a little more, and Chibs let his hand slide a little higher, moving closer to shield her from view, not that anyone was paying all that close attention to them in their little corner. He probably could legitimately fuck her, right here, and no one would be the wiser. He wasn't much of an exhibitionist, honestly, but the thought of Claire letting him do that made him ridiculously hard.

"What if someone else had tried this?"

His fingers met silk, and he heard her croon quietly in his ear. She had set the beer aside, and her hands now gripped his arms with white knuckles. "Chibs..."

"What if someone tried to be cute with ya?" His fingers delved under the silk, and dipped into wicked hot syrup. He wasn't the only one hot under the collar, and the thought made him grin. It always bloated his ego knowing how easily he could turn her on.

"You're the only one I would let get away with this." She made a face that was half grimacing, half aroused. "Aren't you always telling me not to start things I won't finish?"

"Whoever said I wasn't going to finish this?"

"Well, you're not going to finish it here," She told him flatly, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from her skirt.

Chibs didn't argue too obstinately; he knew she wasn't as immune as she was pretending to be, she was just too shy for such heavy PDA. He'd corrupt her sooner or later though; sooner or later, he'd convince her to let that wildcat hiding under the surface out more often.

"Dorm room's open sweetheart. It's got a locking door."

"You're insatiable," She muttered into her beer, plucking the bottle up from the counter again. They both knew it was only to distract her, her cheeks were flushing a little brighter, and she had the slightest glimmer of desire in her eyes. "Besides, I'd probably end up screaming and everyone would know."

"That embarrasses ya?"

"Yeah." She gave him a scathing look along with the statement.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? Why would I want everyone to know you're fucking my brains out?"

"Well, yesterday-"

"That was different. There weren't a bunch of people here, and those that were happened to be out in the garage."

Chibs tried not to roll his eyes, though he wasn't sure he succeeded. "They're not stupid sweetheart. Everyone knows what we got up to." Especially Tig. He grimaced a little, not doubting for a second Tig had hung around and listened in if the opportunity had presented itself. And it probably had; Claire was, as she had warned him, quite the little screamer.

"It's kind of a personal thing Chibs. I would really like to keep it private."

"Maybe I want everyone to hear me fucking your brains out." He leaned forward, with his hands braced on the bar stool in the space behind her. She was literally sitting at the edge of her seat, and he had an inkling as to why. She wasn't going to get away from him, not that easily. "Maybe I want everyone to know that I'm the only one who gets to make you scream."

"Do you really think I need help saying so?" The scathing look came back, this time telling him she thought he doubted her. Quite the opposite.

"No, I don't think ya do. I know better, I just wanna make sure everyone else knows."

"Easy there big boy." Someone grabbed the back of his cut, pulling his face away from Claire, ignoring the fact he had been seconds away from having a go at her neck, knowing all the sensitive skin there made her weak at the knees. Chibs' first instinct was to hit whoever it was, but when he noticed it was Tig, he let it go. Tig would hit back, and they would inevitably come to blows, just because neither of them would want to admit defeat. No one wanted a fight ruining Bobby's party before he even got there. "C'mon-" Tig gave his cut another tug, "-ATF bitch just showed up, they have Bobby. You can come back to the Princess in a minute." He gave a smile in Claire's direction, and she offered a nervous-looking one in return, trying to pull her skirt down as far as it would go. Which wasn't far. Tig's smile widened just a little, but it was a weird sort of smile, like he actually meant it.

"Be back in a minute sweetheart." Chibs cupped the back of Claire's neck, and kissed her hard and fast, before following Tig toward the door.

"She looks like Dawn when she smiles," Tig said absently, the two of them pushing through the small crowd gathered outside to greet Bobby.

"Yer kid?"

He could see Tig wince slightly, as though he hadn't meant to say that aloud, but then he nodded.

"Yeah. They both get that little dimple when they smile." Chibs knew the one. He loved that dimple. But what freaked him out a little was that Tig had noticed. If Claire was softening him up enough to notice said cute little dimple, there was either something very wrong with Tig, or very right with her.

And Chibs was willing to bet money it was the latter.

* * *

><p>Claire knew she was much too far gone when she let a pair of raven-haired girls, who were unapologetic when they referred to themselves as 'Sweetbutts', talk her into dancing.<p>

She didn't dance when she was sober, she didn't even contemplate dancing when sober, because she knew she was terrible. But the girls insisted, and the four Mojitos Claire had ingested made her feel quite brave, bolstered further by the fifth she was still nursing in her hand. She hadn't seen Chibs in a good long while anyway, so she figured there was no harm adventuring out into the congregation of swaying, sweaty bodies gathered around the stripper pole while she waited. One of the girls took her sweater, and the other encouraged Claire to move with her hands on her hips, forcing her to sway along with the music.

She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that convinced her she got the hang of it, or she was actually doing a good job, but she didn't care, Claire laughed as she bumped hips with her new-found friends. It felt so nice to let everything go for a little while, Donna's murder, the secrets she still had yet to uncover; for now, it could all be put to the side, because she felt like a drunken, slightly-stumbling goddess.

The first few gropes she let slide, figuring it was just something that happened on such a dance floor, where almost everyone was bumping and grinding. But before long, the idle hands were trying to sneak up the back of her short dress, and Claire decided it wasn't a casual accident anymore. Chibs was one thing, and she knew Chibs by his touch alone, this was just plain uncomfortable. She moved away from the source of the unwanted touch, not sure she wanted to confront whoever it was and meet a six-five, three-hundred pound drunken biker, explaining to her dark-haired companions that she didn't feel like dancing any longer, and shivered when a hand clamped over her wrist.

The grip on her wrist tugged, more or less forcing her unsteady feet to turn, and she met a smiling face, which was horribly off-set by the leer in her unwanted pursuer's eyes. He wasn't a biker, judging from his lack of leather and clean-cut appearance. He struck her more as a lawyer instead. A slimy defense lawyer to be precise.

"Uhm...I need to go find Chibs-"

"Just one more dance, darlin'?" He requested, and again, the sweetness of his tone was thrown off by his eyes, which were roving over her like he had already gotten her naked and in bed.

Claire blinked her bleary eyes, trying to get some sense to her head and shake off the alcohol fog, tugging ineffectually at her arm, still clutched in his hand. Not hard enough to hurt, but too hard for her to break. "Let go. I don't feel well," She lied, hoping the idea that she might puke all over his nice slacks would deter him. It did not have the desired effect.

"You're with them, aren't you?" He inclined his head in the direction of the girls she had come to the floor with, who were standing close together and watching as though not sure what to do. "You are, right?"

"I don't-"

"That means your job is to take care of me, isn't it?"

Claire felt her face pull into a frown as she realized what 'Sweetbutt' must mean. This asshole thought she was a prostitute. "Let go," She said again, her voice this time firmer, laced with quiet fury, or at least, as much as she could muster in her slight slur.

"I don't think so." He gave her another firm tug, causing her to stumble another step closer to him. "Last I checked, you girls didn't have a choice if you want to stay in the fold."

"C'mon, let her go you douche bag, she's not a Crow-eater, and you're not even a Son anyway." The taller of the girls, her hair cropped in a stylish, punky pixie cut spoke up in Claire's defense, only to be silenced by the lawyer-looking guy's sharp glare, a silent threat in the look that had Claire's entire body tingling with anxiety and a hint of fear. She could not go with him, absolutely not. She fought the hand on her wrist with her full strength, but she was sluggish and off-balance, the alcohol weighing heavy in her system. With another seemingly effortless tug, he wrenched her to him, and laid a sloppy, wet kiss on her mouth. Claire had to clench her jaw tight to prevent his tongue from getting anywhere near inside her mouth, despite the fact she wanted to scream and get someone to get this fucker off her. She was pretty sure she at least got a good swing at him with the Mojito glass in her hand, though it seemed to do nothing, his tongue still trying to force its way past her lips.

In the next heartbeat, Chibs swooped down on her like a protective hawk, wrenching her away from the slimeball and picking up where she left off. Taking the glass from her hand, Chibs cracked it over the other man's skull, causing him to crumple instantly.

"Chibs-"

"Get someone to haul his stupid ass out," Chibs practically snarled at the two girls still standing by, before wordlessly dragging Claire away from the dance floor and down the hallway to his dorm room, which he stormed into, still hauling Claire, and slammed the door behind them.

She stood awkwardly by the door, and he stalked in predatory circles just a few feet away, tension evident in all his body language.

"Turn my back on ya for twenty fucking minutes-" He was saying in a furious mutter, causing Claire to flinch slightly. Chibs angry was a scary sight.

"I'm sorry..." She offered quietly, looking at the floor and knowing she probably sounded like she was ready to cry. She had a tendency to cry a lot when drunk, or at least, that was her excuse for the tightening of her throat. It wasn't fear, she told herself. She wasn't afraid of Chibs.

She heard him sigh, and the sounds of his pacing slowed to a stop. "Ya don't have to apologize, it wasn't yer fault. He was being a fucker."

"Is he part of the Club?"

"No, but he sure as shit thinks he's entitled." Chibs practically spat the statement, as though it left a bad taste. "He's just some lawyer we use sometimes. He's a prick, but he can forge legal papers better than anyone else we know." Well, her guess about him had been spot-on then.

"Then you definitely shouldn't have hit him. What if you need him?" Claire protested, for a moment not realizing that she was arguing in favor of illegal activity. Chibs looked at her sharply.

"I had to."

"No, you didn't. He was only-"

Her words fell dead as Chibs approached her swiftly, bracing a hand on either side of her neck, trapping her between him and the door, staring at her intently.

"I had to," He repeated, eyes never leaving hers, "-because yer mine. Yer mine and no one else is gonna touch ya."

For a long moment, Claire only stared back, unsure of how she felt about this claim of ownership. But then, as though she had secretly known all along that statement had been coming sooner or later, her heart fluttered a little. No one had ever demanded she belong to them before, no one had ever wanted her like this. And she had never realized she wanted it so badly.

"So make me yours," She stated boldly, reaching her hands behind her head, ignoring the slight shaking in her fingers, nervousness or lack of motor-skills from the alcohol consumption, she didn't know. She fumbled with the fastenings holding the halter-top of the dress up, before sliding it free, letting the fabric fall to her chest, where she clutched it. "Right here." She indicated her neck. "Mark me so everyone knows."

"Claire-" His voice sounded strained, carrying the faintest edge of a warning, but he refused to move. She could feel the tension in his arms as his hands curled into fists against the door.

"I've never been marked by anyone before," She said quietly, watching him watch her. "Would it embarrass you?" The words tore from her lips before she could stop them. Chibs' face contorted in something that resembled pain.

"Hell no! Sweetheart, I'd have left marks all over ya days ago if I'd known ya wanted me to. Jesus. But ya can't ask me to stop there, it ain't gonna stop at just a hickey."

She reached for the lock on the door, and flicked it closed, before releasing her grip on the dress, shimmying out of it. She hadn't been able to wear a bra, even a strap-less one in the risque dress, and her underwear barely counted as such, a triangle of silk held in place by a mere string of elastic.

"I don't care if the whole world knows," She declared quietly, trying her hardest not to shy away or blush.

"Sweetheart, the whole world _is_ gonna know," Chibs said, his devilish grin carrying a silent promise, before he grabbed her up and pressed her into the door, his kiss making the slimy lawyer's nothing but a distant memory.

* * *

><p>She woke up wedged between Chibs and a mystery blonde on a couch, Half-sack on the nameless woman's other side. Her leg was thrown over Chibs' lap, and her arms around his neck, as though she had fallen asleep straddling him and merely slid over to the side. Probably not far from the truth.<p>

Last night came back in slow chunks, though she knew for a fact Chibs had made good on his promise to make sure everyone knew what they had gotten up to in his room. Although, luckily, there had been plenty of other going-ons, and no one had heard her cries over the others echoing just doors away. Of course, he had also left her a hell of a hickey, as per her request, on her neck, making sure there was visible proof, even if they hadn't heard. She felt heat creeping up to her cheeks.

Chibs made her want to be bad in best way. The way he had kept grabbing at her, flirting with her, it had made her feel daring and naughty and beautiful, like the sex kitten celebrities she had always secretly hoped to emulate. She tilted her head up and looked at him, sleeping away with his arm curled possessively over her shoulders, his head leaning on hers. There had been no incidents with anyone after the little escapade with the lawyer. Claire's hand ventured up and brushed over the scar marking his face, realizing with a jolt she was thinking of the future.

She had been thinking of waking up like this with him all the time. He had laid his claim on her last night, and she had given him nothing but encouragement. He had been making sure everyone knew who she was with. And she had wanted all of it, a part of her had already belonged to Chibs, but now it had been established amongst the Club.

But was that enough? Ownership was definitely not the same as love, Claire knew this first hand. She could always love him, but could he love her? Could he love her as much as the Club? As much as the freedom it obviously offered him? She still knew so little about him, almost nothing about what he did, really did, and she didn't want to have to ask. The talk about his days in the army the evening previous was the only thing he had ever freely offered up about his past. Most was still only vague detail. She wanted Chibs to tell her himself, tell her what he trusted her to know, even if that was only a small part of the truth. A grain of truth was all she needed, because it was more than she had ever had before.

Her Father, her Mother, her brother Liam, and especially Ben, were all natural-born liars. It was how they made money, spinning the lies. Making people believe the lies was where real power came from.

The longer she kept playing pretend, kept putting off asking the questions she was afraid to have honest answers to, the more thoroughly Chibs owned her in the mean time. She had been made to force herself to love Ben, but Chibs had stolen her heart without even trying, and she had given it willingly, even if he didn't realize it yet. Her feelings were serious, as real as they could get, but she didn't know what parts of him she loved. The parts he showed her, or all of him? She had to know, before she got too carried away with this dream of a future.

But not now. Now she was tired, sated, comfortable even, and she wasn't going to wake Chibs up just to start throwing questions at him. It could wait. It could always wait a few more hours.


	10. Chapter 10

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Greetings Ladies and potentially Gents (I only say that because I've never met a male on here, but I figure there might be a few.) Anyway, yeah man. Getting good and meaty these last few chapters, and I'm pleased to say that though I'm not moving at quite the pace I did with the earlier chapters, I'm definitely making steady progress. Now then, I present you all with Chapter 10. Enjoy. :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Fairytale<strong>

Chibs loved watching when Claire applied her lotion. It was incredibly sexy, watching her run her hands over every inch of her soft skin, and her precision intrigued him; he wondered at the way she applied such a perfectly even amount over each inch of her flesh. It was also one of the few times, besides when they were tearing a bed up, that she openly displayed her tattoos.

The one over her heart was still probably his favorite, but she had a cute little shamrock hidden away on her hip, where it would just barely poke over the band of her jeans, a column of writing down her lower spine that declared 'live and let love' in attractive cursive, and the dove. The dove perched prettily on her right shoulder. She didn't hide her tattoos exactly, but, as she had told him once, they were her personal decorations, she didn't feel the need to display them. She liked them, and that was all that mattered to her. It was another of her qualities he rather admired.

Chibs was looking at the dove now, tracing his fingers over it and wondering what it would look like to have a crow occupy the other shoulder. His crow.

Claire looked at him through the reflection of the bathroom mirror, her hair damp, dressed only in her underwear. Her hands paused their lotion application.

"Are you okay Chibs? You seem really out of it today." She tilted curious eyes to him, where he stood in the doorway to the bathroom, leaning on the frame, his one hand still stretched out, brushing fingers over her shoulder. She was the only woman in recent memory that he was comfortable with like this; merely stand and be with. They didn't have to fuck, they didn't have to talk, they could just be.

"Just tired lovely, it was a long day." He shook his head and smiled.

"Clay and Jax?" She guessed, though he figured she knew she was right already.

"Yeah."

"What are they fighting over? They've been going at it for a long-ass time now."

"Clay getting old I guess." Chibs shrugged. "And what they want to do with the Club. Jax wants to try something new, and Clay is as old-school as ya can get."

"And Jax is next in line to take over, so it worries Clay."

"That's what I think anyway." He nodded.

"What would you want to do?" She asked, genuine curiosity filling her eyes. He raised an eyebrow at her, but, for the first time in a long time, thought of what he would prefer. New or old?

"Guess it doesn't matter sweetheart. Doesn't matter which my president is, that's who I follow." But he also knew that if Jax's way would cut down on casualties like Donna, he'd jump on that bandwagon. He did not want to lose Claire, especially not that way. He wanted whatever was going to keep her here with him, like this.

"Fair enough." Claire nodded, smoothing lotion over her arms. "You can stay here if you want you know, if you're tired. I can manage groceries and stuff on my own."

"Ya sure?"

Claire gave him a wise-ass smile in response. "Chibs, I'm an adult, remember? Besides, I imagine CaraCara isn't doing any wonders for you resting. Running away from all those porn stars all day..."

"Running away?"

"Well, you better be. Because if I hear you're running towards any of them, I won't fuck you for a month."

He blinked, not quite believing for a moment that she had seriously just threatened him with that. She stared back at him with her lips pursed, almost pouting, but her eyes had the cold flare that said she knew more than she was letting on. Ah. He understood now, someone must have let slip about the wrap party the other night.

"Runnin' away isn't professional sweetheart. But my pants stay zipped, I promise ya that."

"And their hands stay out?"

"And their hands stay out." Chibs nodded with a small laugh. Maybe he had been wrong about Claire being the jealous type. She didn't seem to approve of the fact that he found her statement amusing though.

"I mean it Chibs. I can be celibate for a month without so much as batting an eyelash."

"No ya can't," He taunted, only further amused when she blushed.

"Before you I could have been," She turned on her heel back to the counter, grabbing up the loose-fitting shirt that had been sitting there and pulling it over her head.

"Claire..." She pointedly ignored him, reaching for her jeans. "C'mon sweetheart, yer being silly. I'm leaving tomorrow, and ya wanna spend the night being mad at me?"

"I was trying to talk to you." She turned again, a pained sort of look in her eyes. "I don't find it as funny as you do."

"The only thing I find funny is the fact that ya seem to think I'd let ya get away with trying to be celibate." She crossed her arms under her breasts, looser than they would have been if she were angry. That at least was a good sign, but she was looking at the floor rather than him. Chibs stepped closer, hooking his arms loosely around her back. "I come back to ya every night, don't I?"

"Chibs..."

"Don't I? Even if it's late, I'm always here in the morning, right?"

"Yeah." She leaned her head against his chest, burrowing against him. "You're always here."

"Don't take that kinda shit lightly sweetheart. Cuz I don't."

"I...sorry. I guess I just worry, considering they're porn stars and all, and they're so pretty..."

"That may be, but I haven't found one as pretty as ya yet." He kissed her head lightly.

Claire scoffed quietly up at him. "Now you're just sucking up."

"Take the compliment lovely, I don't call ya that fer no reason. Now go on, get yer shopping done before I start doing stuff to ya."

"Like what?" She asked, her eyes glittering with interest when she looked up and smiled at him.

"Like putting yer ass on the counter and doin' ya right here."

"Maybe I want you to."

"Then take yer jeans back off," Chibs challenged, honestly figuring she wouldn't go through with it. But, much to his pleasure, she took a small step back from him, her hand reaching to the button of her jeans. She went much slower than she would have if she were merely getting undressed, tempting him. She wriggled the denim from her hips, sliding the pants down her legs and stepping out of them.

"Now what?" She titled her head at him, pretend curiosity in her expression.

"Shirt goes next." Obediently, her hands grasped the hem of the cotton and pulled it over her head.

"And now?" She questioned him softly.

"Bra." Wordlessly, she reached behind her back and tugged the snap loose, dropping the simple black bra to the floor among her other clothes. She stood in the center of the floor, lights blazing, her cotton underwear the only thing left guarding her from him, her cheeks reddish and her body posture nervous, shy.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that two months ago, Claire probably wouldn't have been able to do this for him, she would have been much too shy. Before that, she probably never would have considered doing it for anyone. It humbled Chibs in a way he never would have imagined, knowing how much more of Claire he got to see than anyone else, both figuratively and literally. He could tell, by the way she was continually coming more and more out of her shell, that she was more herself with him than she had ever felt comfortable being before. And he knew how much she hated being exposed the way she was, even when it was only to him. She had been raised to be a lady, not a SAMCRO hang-around.

"Panties?" She asked, thumbs hooking in the elastic.

"No, ya leave those to me sweetheart." He kicked off his shoes as he crossed the bathroom floor, hefting her up with an arm under her ass, the other wrapping around her neck and dragging her mouth down to his. He sat her on the edge of the counter, sweeping his arm behind her to clear the space of her hair products, before nudging her back gently. Claire shoved at his cut with one hand, the other working furiously at the buttons on his shirt. His hand cupped her breast, and he flicked his thumb over her nipple, smirking when she whimpered in a way that began as startled and morphed into needy. It distracted her from getting his clothes off for all of five seconds.

The leather fell to the floor with a quiet slap, and his work shirt and the long sleeve tee underneath were pulled over his head seconds later, as she had apparently decided she didn't want to deal with the rest of the buttons. Chibs caught her hands when they reached for his belt.

"Filip-" She tore her mouth away from his just enough to utter his name.

"Always in such a hurry sweetheart. Ya hardly give me time to romance ya."

"I don't need romance."

"Sure ya do." Chibs ignored her stubborn little wiggle, her legs wrapping around his waist, and pinned her wrists against the mirror behind her. "Even if ya don't, ya deserve it once in awhile, doncha think?" Whatever she had been about to say was lost when he kissed her, trailing his lips and tongue down her neck, then his teeth met her shoulder; a little nip, just hard enough to leave a faint mark. Her chest was already heaving slightly, and her hands had gone limp in his. He loved touching her. Just like he'd thought from the very beginning, there was a wild-side under all her reserved layers; she had never failed to go off like a firecracker. And he never failed to get caught in the blaze; with Claire, even missionary blew his fucking mind, and he had no idea why.

He kept her hands restrained where they were, suckling on her until Claire was practically writhing, trying to drag him closer with her legs and saying some of most vulgar things he had ever heard leave her lips. Most of which revolved around the way she wanted him to fuck her.

He nuzzled his face against her shoulder, kissing the darkening bite-mark. She was going to be his Old Lady. He had already decided it, because she owned him. He had known for awhile that this was the only outcome of this relationship. He had known the second he realized the only reason he hadn't killed the man who had touched her at Bobby's party, or at the very least, hospitalized him, was because Claire had been watching. Watching him with that look that carried the tiniest hint of fear.

Maybe Gemma had been right to worry after all.

Chibs let go of her wrists, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself as close to him as she could get, one hand sliding down his back not long after to fish around for the condom that he kept in his wallet like every good boyscout. He tugged at her panties, and though she whimpered again at being made to relinquish her hold on him, she loosened her grip enough to allow him to slide them down her legs, leaving a trail of tender little kisses in his wake.

"I could eat ya like candy..." Chibs muttered against her thigh, feeling her entire body shudder at the image it probably put in her head.

"God, Chibs, please don't. I think I'd go insane."

"Sounds promising." Chibs smirked up at her.

"Later," She groaned, grabbing at his shoulders. "You can torture me later."

"I don't think of it as torture."

"Of course you wouldn't. You think it's hot when I beg." She made a face at him while Chibs rose back to his feet, her cheeks flaring.

"Only cuz yer begging me fer things I love to do to ya." He grinned, hooking his hands under her knees and sliding back between them. "And I like hearing explicit things come out of that pretty little mouth." He added, with a placing a fiery kiss on said mouth. Honestly, if she started talking dirty to him now, when she was already naked, wet, and waiting, he would more than likely come in his jeans. And that really wasn't acceptable when you weren't a teenager with more jizz than sense. Chibs' solution to this problem was to get inside Claire as soon as possible.

She was one step ahead of him, fingers at his belt and fiddling to release the buckle, and they worked in tandem to unwrap and apply the condom.

He couldn't wait. He may have wanted to play the romantic, but he just didn't have the patience in him at this point. He eased into her slowly, the heat of her body was almost excruciating, Claire wrapping her limbs around him, pulling him in, pulling him close.

It took a matter of minutes to send her flying over the edge, and she came apart in his arms like no other woman ever had, her delicate inner muscles gripping around his cock in a way that dared him not to explode right along with her. He didn't hold back, he didn't even try.

Panting, Claire clung to him with shaking arms and legs, her breath warm against his neck, where she buried her face, he was still buried deep inside her, reveling in the feel of her aftershocks.

"I thought you said you were tired," She grumbled, not sounding the least bit unhappy about it.

"I've always got energy for ya sweetheart. But don't tell me _yer _already worn out."

"My stamina isn't as good as yours I guess," Claire replied with a derisive snort, but she leaned her head back to give him a content smile.

"C'mon lovely, bed then. Shopping can wait 'til later." He slid out of her, tossing the latex in the trash, before wrapping an arm around her knees and the other around her shoulders, Claire wrapping her still trembling arms around his neck.

"What about dinner?"

"Pfft. Forget dinner sweetheart, I'm going straight to desert."

"Oh my lord..." He could tell by the expression on her face, she knew exactly what he meant. That being at least an hour of so-called "torture".

* * *

><p>Chibs had started noticing the parts of him in her life not long after they got together, so to speak.<p>

He had a set of keys to her house, his clothes were forever mixed in with hers, he had soap and shampoo in her shower, hell, he even went grocery shopping with her. He'd never willingly gone to the grocery store with a woman. And, all that aside, he really was here with her more or less every night. The only purpose the dorm room served these days was when she was willing to give up her lunch for a quick romp. Or at least when he needed privacy for phone sex if she couldn't get away.

Stretched out in bed and looking at her ceiling, her head resting contently on his shoulder, Chibs tried to remember if it had been like this with Fiona. Had he been happy with her? It was so hard to judge now, after all this time. He really didn't know. But she had known who he was. She had helped make him. He had loved her, and maybe he still did -a little- but this was an entirely new phenomenon.

"Y'know when I said I was working in Ireland?"

"Yeah...?" Claire tilted her head to look at him, but Chibs kept his eyes on the ceiling.

"I worked with the IRA. That's where SAMCRO gets the guns, we pay so they can keep money going to their army and bombs and what have ya, and we sell the guns to gang-bangers in Oakland, so they can protect their drug shipments and territory. And...I'm sorta not the nice guy I let ya think I am, I've done a lot of bad shit. I've hurt a lot of people, some really bad, and some for no good reason. And I sorta lied when I said I hadn't killed anyone. I have, fer the Club."

Claire had her head propped in her hand, listening quietly, with a disturbingly passive expression on her face.

"So, basically, what you're saying is you're everything ATF thinks you are, you just do a good job of covering up evidence?"

"Er...yeah, that's the gist of it."

"Well, I could sort of gather most of that just by paying attention." She was still painfully neutral as she stared back at him. "So I guess the question is why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"It's just...stuff I think ya oughta know about me," Chibs responded, trying to think of the best way to break the news about his wife to her. It wasn't going to be easy, and she was probably going to get angry, maybe even hate him a little bit. But he couldn't keep the secret from her much longer, and he didn't want to keep secrets from her. He wanted her to know him, all of him, and maybe, just maybe, still feel the same about him in spite of it.

That wasn't too much to ask, was it?

Only, part of him knew it probably was, considering how far he had let this go without telling her.

"So...?" She prodded him to continue, as though she knew the worst of this little confession was yet to come.

"It's kinda difficult to explain...It's...I'm sorta-"

His phone chose that moment to ring. Chibs would have just as well ignored it, but Claire reached over him and plucked it up.

"It's Clay, you probably want to answer it," She informed, holding it out to him.

Frowning, Chibs took her advice. As much as he wanted to get it all out and get it over with, he knew better than to ignore a call from Clay. Especially since he was a bit late getting to the garage for the new gun-run project they were on. Answering, he got exactly what he had expected, a pretty stern talking-to and an order to get his ass to the garage pronto.

"You have to go?" Claire guessed, probably having heard Clay as well, for all the shouting.

"Assuming I like my head attached, yeah. Clay's threatening to kill me in some pretty nasty ways." He slid out from the bed, locating his clothes back in the bathroom, where he had left them. Claire followed, pulling on one of her long t-shirts in lieu of clothes.

"I'm going to hazard a guess that this thing you're going on isn't actually a charity ride." She leaned on the door frame as she spoke, looking at her bare feet, her toenails painted an adorable shade of purple.

"Yu'd be right."

"Is it dangerous?"

"I dunno. Probably not, but ya never know what's gonna happen."

"Do you know when you'll be back?"

"Coupla days." Chibs said, pulling his pants on. He turned to look at her, and she had the same neutral expression on her face as before, as though she was carefully analyzing everything he said. "We'll talk more when I get back."

Dropping the Fiona-bomb and then disappearing for two or three days seemed like a recipe for disaster, and he sure as hell wasn't going to risk that. He'd rather take his chances trying to explain than give her another reason to hate him.

"Alright. When you get back." She nodded, tangling her fingers together in the nervous way she did sometimes. "Chibs?"

"Hm?"

"I'm glad you feel like you can talk me. And I'm glad I heard the truth from you. But...you can't ask me to love what you do. I don't know whether I can yet."

"I'm not asking ya to."

"What are you asking me?"

"Just to understand I guess." Chibs shrugged. Again, Claire said nothing, simply followed him as he walked to the kitchen, gathering his wallet and the gun he usually tried to keep hidden from her. Now he wasn't sure it had been necessary, she seemed to have guessed the truth long before he had told her.

"Will you promise you'll be careful at least?"

He smiled a little, glad that he didn't hear an angry tone in her voice. Nothing but mild concern. "Like I said before sweetheart, I'll always be coming back sooner or later. Don't ya worry yerself about that." She smiled back at him, walking with him to the door, leaning into his kiss willingly. "Claire."

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna make ya my Old Lady." It wasn't so much a request, like he had been planning to go for, it sounded more like he was simply stating a fact that she should have already known.

"You're what?" She stared at him with a stricken expression, as though he were asking the impossible.

"Yer gonna be my Old Lady. Even if ya say no right now, I'm gonna convince ya." He framed her lovely little face in his hands, whilst Claire still only stared at him in disbelief. "I'm gonna keep trying 'til ya say yes. And don't ya think I'm joking. I'm bein' dead serious here sweetheart."

"I thought you said you weren't any good at being serious."

"I'm putting a real effort into it," He muttered, unable to tell whether he was convincing her or not.

"I know. I can tell." She smiled, placing her hands over his. "And as much as I want to say yes without even hesitating, I can't until I know whatever it was you were going to tell me earlier. Let's talk about that first, when you get back, okay?"

Relief sank into his system, part of him had been more or less confident that she was going to say yes, sooner or later, but a part of him had also been worried she'd tell him to shove off. She didn't seem any more keen on another committed relationship than he had been some days. But it seemed both of them had changed, or at the very least, they'd really started to grow on each other. Still, that didn't stop the little tingle of panic in his stomach at the thought that the truth about his marital status was going to go on the table soon. He'd be a damn fool to not be scared about that.

"You better go before Clay comes over and drags you. I promise I'll still be here when you get back. Don't go picking up any sexy hitchhikers, okay?"

"Alright, just the ugly ones then."

"God, Chibs, you are horrible," She accused, though that didn't stop her from smiling.

* * *

><p>It was hard for Claire to stop grinning like a schoolgirl. Okay, more like impossible. All because Chibs had asked her to be his Old Lady.<p>

Not even asked really. More like told her that was the way it was going to be, whether she liked it or not. Which was okay, because she liked the idea of being an Old Lady, of belonging, a whole lot. She hadn't been looking for another marriage proposal, or even another relationship really. More than anything, it had been a happy accident. The only thing she had wanted out of this small town was a place to belong and her peace of mind, and the longer she was in Charming, the longer she was with Chibs, the more she felt like she had found those things. This was the happiest she had been in a long time -though she hadn't even told him yes yet- and she wasn't about to let worries rain on her personal parade.

She had been concerned not that long ago about how well she could fit into Chibs' life, but it seemed like she needn't have worried, seeing as he evidently wanted her there.

As she wandered through the store later in the day, picking up the groceries Chibs had distracted her from the night before, Claire pondered about what he had been trying to say. It had to have been important whatever it was, but why hadn't he just told her before he left?

Lost in her contemplation, Claire hardly noticed Gemma approaching her until the other woman had set a hand on her shoulder, sending Claire forward several steps with a squeal of surprise.

"Jesus Gemma, you scared the hell out of me!" Claire exclaimed, pressing a hand over her pounding heart, which did nothing to soothe the thundering.

"Sorry sweetie, but it's not my fault you were off in gaga-land." Gemma smirked, but it seemed to only have half it's usual sass. Come to think of it, nothing about Gemma had it's usual sass today, she looked tired, her clothes rumpled and casual, and her hair was tugged up in a ponytail rather than flawlessly styled. Thinking better of mentioning it though, Claire chose what she assumed to be a safer subject.

"You heard from Clay?"

"You heard from Chibs?"

"Er...No?"

"Better get used to that baby. One of the rules is what happens on runs, stays on runs. You don't ask, and he doesn't tell." Gemma started off again, shopping basket in hand, and Claire followed, though she was unsure whether Gemma intended to continue talking to her. She had a real hard time telling with Mama Bear.

"You mean like Fight Club?"

"Something like that," Gemma said, glancing over her shoulder at her. Again, Claire was stricken by how tired she seemed. It was like Gemma hadn't slept in days. "How are things with you two anyway?"

"Er...fine? How do you mean?"

"Considering the fact you were completely oblivious to your surroundings, I'm going to guess you're either really pissed at Chibs or really happy with him. Which is it?"

"Well...happy I suppose." Claire shrugged, and Gemma gave her an appraising eye.

"Are you pregnant?"

Claire came to such an abrupt halt, she almost dropped her own basket of groceries. "No! What the hell Gemma?" Instinctively her hand went to her tummy, wondering if she looked chubby or something.

"Hey, no need to bite my head off." Gemma rolled her eyes. "It's a reasonable conclusion, considering the only time he sleeps in his dorm these days is when we've heard you for at least an hour before that."

Claire felt herself flush, but refused to flinch away from under Gemma's gaze, it wasn't like it was anything to be embarrassed about. She was an adult after all, not a teenager who needed to sneak around to see her man. "I'm not pregnant. I'm on the pill and we always use protection."

"Relax, I didn't mean it like it was a bad thing."

"Sorry. I'm just kind of uncomfortable with the whole kid thing..." Gemma only shrugged her apology off, and they wandered along together awhile longer, silently selecting their preferred products. "Hey Gemma? Do you want to get some coffee or something?"

"You know sweetie, coffee sounds real nice right about now." And Gemma seemed to genuinely mean it too.

Seeing as Charming wasn't exactly known for it's popular franchises, and it was rare to even hear about a Starbucks, Claire and Gemma walked a block down from the grocery store to a cute local cafe, claiming to have the best coffee in town. They selected a corner table, and Gemma sat down heavily, her eyes fixing out the window.

Unable to resist any longer, Claire voiced her concern for Gemma's health, even though she knew she would likely get her heart ripped out for daring to be sympathetic.

"Are you feeling alright Gemma? You seem really...I don't know, worn out today."

For a moment, Gemma seemed surprised, as though she hadn't realized it showed on her face, but then she merely shrugged. "Just a lot of shit going on right now."

"Oh. Is it something I can help with?"

Gemma gave her a little smirk. "Well, look who's so eager to jump into the Club business now."

Claire responded with a shrug of her own, fiddling with her coffee cup absently. "It's not like I can just pretend it doesn't exist, right? Besides, Chibs told me a little bit. Not much, but..."

"You have to at least pretend to like the Club, because you're in love with him, right?"

"Is it obvious?" Claire winced, wondering if she'd been walking around like a moony-eyed fool.

"Maybe not to him. Or any of the other guys. But to me, yeah, it is." Gemma leaned back in her chair, watching Claire, who could only sip her coffee, unable to formulate a response. "Personally, I think it's kinda cute. Never had a daughter, but watching you is almost like having one in the awkward high school phase."

Claire felt the embarrassment coloring her face, and looked down stubbornly at her coffee. Okay, so she didn't have a lot of practice in how to act in this sort of situation, but surely she wasn't that bad. Was she? "I think Chibs knows," She told Gemma offhandedly.

"Oh? Did you tell him so?"

"Well, no, but...things have kind of changed, that's all. He...he wants me to be his Old Lady."

"Oh lord."

"What?" Claire's eyes shot up, fully prepared to go on the defensive. But the look Gemma was giving her wasn't disapproving, angry, or even amused. It was serious, and would have killed any arguments Claire had.

"Did he even tell you what kind of shit that would get you into?"

"Kind of. I mean, he told me more about what the Club does, and more about himself-"

"Listen, baby, being an Old Lady is more than just being his girl. You're going to see and hear stuff that you never wanted to know about, you're not going to be able to stay out of Club business anymore. And you're going to have to keep it all to yourself. You're going to be the beam that holds Chibs up, but you can just as easily be his Achilles heel. People will...people will try to hurt you, knowing that, you have to be prepared to take a few hits now and again. And one slip up can ruin more than Chibs, it could ruin all of us. Are you prepared for that?"

"You still don't trust me, do you Gemma?" Claire questioned, hurt by the idea.

"No, it's not that. I know I can trust you. I know Chibs can trust you. But I'm worried about you_. _You're a very sweet girl Claire, a real good girl. I just worry about someone as gentle as you getting too mixed up with the Club."

"I may not know what I'm doing right now," Claire admitted, meeting Gemma's still slightly concerned gaze, "-but I can learn. I'll have to figure it out sooner or later, because I've already decided I'm saying yes."

Gemma's expression softened in something resembling acceptance of this answer. "He did tell you about the tattoo, right?"

"Er...tattoo?"

"Yeah, you're going to wear his crow. Like I wear Clay's." Gemma brazenly tugged the v-neck collar of her shirt down to further display the ink over her breast.

"Ah." Claire nodded, wondering if Chibs had been deciding where he wanted to put it the other night. Hopefully he could resist asking her to get it somewhere naughty. A tattoo which served as a permanent mark of a bond. The idea intrigued her honestly, though she wondered if it went both ways. Chibs would mark her, but how did she go about marking him as hers? Was she allowed to? She supposed this was one of the things she'd have to figure out as she went.

"Anyway, you must have handled the news about what happened in Ireland well, if you're saying yes."

Claire went on alert instantly. "Uhm...what? He only said he was with the IRA."

Gemma's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open briefly. "Oh Christ...don't tell me...shit, he didn't tell you, did he?"

"Tell me what? Gemma, what happened?"

In a gesture that only made Claire more anxious, Gemma reached across the table to lay her hands sympathetically over Claire's. "Sweetheart, listen, I don't know why he didn't tell you...especially now...but I can't. It's really something he should explain to you, alright?"

"Why? Why can't you just tell me?"

"Just trust me baby, it would only be worse coming from me. When he gets back, you need to ask him to tell you all the details about Ireland. About those scars. It's probably gonna hurt, but you're a strong woman, you'll figure out the best way to handle it." Gemma placated, though from the pained look she was giving Claire, she supposed she could risk guessing that it was something that could easily effect their lives now. And considering it had something to do with the scars, which Chibs still never talked about, she could guess it was bad.

It was only later she would understand how accurate that assessment was.

* * *

><p>Chibs knew he was being a coward. Scratch that. He knew he was being a goddamned pussy. He'd known he was in trouble the moment he looked at his phone and saw the call log. Three missed calls from Claire and one from Gemma, the latter having left a short, threatening voice-mail consisting simply of: "You've got some fucking explaining to do." He knew he was in deep, deep shit, and as such, was avoiding both of them like the plague. He had been hiding out in the garage, not sure he wanted to ask Gemma what he needed to explain, and not wanting to go to Claire without an explanation. Talk about a rock and fucking cactus-covered hard place.<p>

Of course, the other Sons knew his predicament, and so far, had taunted him relentlessly about it, which wasn't exactly the help he had been looking for.

"Fucking ridiculous," Chibs muttered under his breath, unlocking the door to a recently towed mini-van. So distracted was he with his thoughts that for a moment, he didn't hear the tell-tale ticking in the lower part of the van.

"Shit-!" Chibs bailed, but somewhere in the back of his mind knew he'd already wasted too much time. The only thing he could wonder about as he was launched into the air, only semi-aware that his skull split open on what he guessed was the pavement moments later, was who would explain it if both Claire and Fiona showed up to his funeral.

Then everything went black, and he figured he'd be seeing the real reaper soon.


	11. Chapter 11

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Hey guys, here's another, like I promised. :) That aside, I would like to warn you all that I'll probably be a little slow with updates, because I go back to college tomorrow. (Joy) Anyway, read on friends. And please don't assume this is the end. It definitely is not. :) _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Terminus<strong>

The first thing Chibs knew when he swam back into a foggy consciousness was that he wasn't dead. He was in way too much pain to be dead. The second was that someone else was in the room with him, warm little fingers wrapped around his. He'd know those hands anywhere.

"Hey...sweetheart..." His voice was a croak out of his throat, despite the effort it took to speak.

"Filip...?" Her voice cracked, though he couldn't tell whether it was with a sob or a sigh of relief. "Thank God..." Her hand tightened around his, and he felt her lips brushing against his fingers. "I thought you were going to die...when Jax said you'd been blown up, I thought for sure I was only going to come here and find pieces of you..."

Chibs tried to turn his head and look at her, but his head was killing him, and his vision was dicked anyway. The only thing he could see for certain was the light, and that hurt, so he opted to keep his eyes mostly closed.

"I can only be here a few minutes...Gemma and Tara had to sneak me in, but I really wanted to see you...you know, make sure you were still whole and everything..." Her hand clung a little tighter again.

"The Club?"

"All in jail. Except you, Opie and Half-sack."

"The hell for?" Chibs demanded to the best of his abilities, though his voice was far from strong.

"I don't know what really happened, I don't know if anyone does, but the way the news is playing it, it sounds like they blew in on some kind of church dinner."

"That's fuckin' bull."

"It doesn't matter." He guessed Claire must be shaking her head, from the blurry motion he could catch in his peripheral. "They've got proof of something, whatever it is. And Gemma can't seem to get anyone out on bail either."

"Shit..."

He could hear her sigh, and then felt her fingers slide away from his. "Chibs, I've got to go. The nurse making rounds will be by any minute. But listen...I don't expect it right now, but... we've got to talk. About a lot of stuff. Especially whatever it is everyone has been hiding from me about Ireland." There was some shuffling, which he assumed to mean she was getting up, and she brushed a tender kiss over his lips. "Get well. We'll worry about everything else after that."

"Sure...talk..." He muttered, knowing the worst was yet to come. He wondered how much Gemma had already told her, and how much she hated him already. Before long, the pain meds kicked back in, and Chibs slipped back under into the dark.

It felt like moments later he was back in reality, and could hear the shuffling of someone else in the room once again. Had she come back already?

"Claire?"

"I'm goin' ta guess she was the cute red-head sneakin' outta here."

Chibs felt like he'd just been hit with a second car-bomb. Not Claire. Fiona.

_Oh shit._

* * *

><p>As much as Claire had hated having to sit around the hospital and worry about Chibs, she thought she might hate wandering around the house and doing it even more. At least at the hospital she didn't have to wonder about what could go wrong while she was gone. But, fact of the matter was, she was only human, and had been starting to look like a zombie from lack of sleep and not eating enough. Of course, Gemma had also threatened to make Opie carry her back and tie her to the bed-post if she didn't at least go get a decent dinner. She didn't think Opie would do such a thing, but, better safe than sorry.<p>

So now, here she was, worrying just like before, and making a grilled cheese. Real fancy. Claire sighed and leaned against the counter. And then there was that woman. She didn't even know where to start with that one. She had been heading into Chibs' hospital room just as Claire was leaving, and brazenly too. She had never seen her before, factor in that ICU was supposed to be immediate family only, and that left a pretty limited scope of what the possibilities were for her identity. She was holding out for long-lost sister or something like that; but Claire knew it was wishful thinking at best.

That said, she wasn't sure she could handle serious contemplation of anything else just yet. Chibs would get back on his feet, the rest of the Club would get out of jail, and then...then she might be prepared for the alternatives. But for now, all she wanted was to eat her sandwich, take a hot shower, force down a couple of Tylenol PM and try to sleep a little while.

She nearly wanted to throw the plate of half-eaten grilled cheese down when she heard a car pulling into her drive. She did _not _want to deal with anyone right now, but when they started ringing the doorbell insistently, she figured it might actually be important and resigned herself to putting off the much-needed peace a while longer. She pushed the plate back, rose from her chair and walked to the front door, groaning aloud when she saw the bright yellow Viper sitting in her driveway, dangerously close to her Jetta. That could mean only one thing. Her brother Liam was here to make everything worse.

Knowing he would probably stand there and continue ringing until she opened the door, Claire flicked the locks down and pulled the door open, meeting her brother's annoyingly false smile with a grimace of her own.

"If Dad sent you, you can turn around and leave right now Liam. I'm having a shitty week."

"Damn Sis, that's no way to greet me after the long drive I took just to see you."

"Yeah right. I'm betting Dad sent you to do his dirty work because he didn't want to make the drive and couldn't convince Ben to do it again."

"Okay...you're partially right." Liam conceded with a nod, pulling his sunglasses off and stepping around Claire into the living room. "He did send me to try and convince you to come home again, but it wasn't that he didn't want to make the drive, it's that he couldn't. Dad's in the hospital, it's bad this time." As if that news meant very little to him, and he probably pretended that was true, Liam walked a slow circle around the living room, apparently to examine all of Claire's things, or possibly the scattered objects that belonged to Chibs. "So, where's this biker boyfriend of yours Ben was raving about?"

"The hospital, if you must know." Claire crossed her arms and watched her brother move around her house, bristling every time he got nosy and started fiddling with things, but knowing objecting to his rubber-necking would only make it worse. Liam was a trained pain in the ass, especially when it came to pissing off his older sister.

"Bar fight?"

"Accident." She crossed the floor and plucked Chibs' spare sunglasses out of Liam's hand, setting them back on the side table where he always left them, should he forget his favorite pair somewhere.

"Ah." Was all Liam said for a moment, before he turned to meet eyes with her. Liam took after both their parents in the best way, as far as looks went. He was tall and slim, but worked out enough that he wasn't scrawny. He'd gotten their Father's green eyes, and their Mother's dirty-blonde hair. Sometimes Claire wondered if they were really related, seeing as they were so different. She seemed to have gotten all the recessive genes possible in her family, and Liam never let her forget it either. "I didn't think he was serious, you know? I figured it was just Ben being Ben."

"Yeah, well, he was serious. I'm in love with a biker. Can you go now?" Claire rubbed her eyes tiredly. Those Tylenol PM were sounding real good. She looked up again to find Liam watching her. "What?"

"'In love'. Really, Claire?"

"God, you're just like Dad." Claire groaned, sitting herself down on the couch heavily. Liam, to her utter surprise, sat himself down next to her.

"Sorry. Really. Listen, Claire, can't you just come home for a little bit at least? Dad's going crazy."

Also he was an insincere bastard, but what else was new? That apology was probably the worst she'd ever heard.

"Is that supposed to change my mind? Ben showed up barely a week after I moved here, then Dad started harassing me, and now you? Is Mom booked on the next flight down or what?"

"Claire, you've got to at least go see him. I mean, before he dies. You're not that cruel."

"Maybe I am." She stood again, feeling uncomfortable with Liam trying to be so friendly, and walked back to the kitchen, remembering she had that grilled cheese to finish. He followed.

"Claire, come on. Don't be a brat."

"You're one to talk. The only time you aren't a sarcastic bastard is apparently when you get drunk and feel like calling me at three in the morning."

"He's your father."

"That never meant anything to him until he started dying," Claire spat, whirling around to face her brother with a glare. "Why should I drop my entire life just to go see him? I have my own problems, like Chibs being in the hospital." As well as the possibility that there was another woman involved in all this.

"His name is Chibs?"

"It's a nickname," Claire said shortly, not wanting to get into the explanation. Which she didn't actually know, seeing as Chibs still hadn't told her that story. Or one that would explain the mystery woman. Or anything. Claire was really beginning to wonder just how far in the dark Chibs had really been keeping her. She wasn't stupid, but she wasn't nosy either, and now, she wished she might have taken more after her brother in that trait. She should have started pressing him for answers a long time ago.

"Dad thinks you hate him." Liam invited himself to sit in the kitchen chair opposite her.

"Yeah, well, I kind of do." She shrugged and picked at her sandwich, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Listen Liam, really listen for second. I'm not going back to Portland, because it's not my home anymore. This is. I have a life here, and everything is turning into total shit. I can't leave right now even if I wanted to, I need to be here. Not just because of Chibs, but because I've got people here who are like family."

"You've got a family."

"That's not the point Liam. Is it so hard to believe that I like it here? It's not like this is some rebel phase or anything, I mean it. I like it here, and I'm not leaving."

"And I'm supposed to believe that joining a motorcycle gang _isn't_ a rebellion?" Liam all but scoffed.

"This from the guy who only sleeps with girls who have tattoos and piercings. What do you call that? Having a sixth sense for any woman in a mile-wide radius that will piss Mom and Dad off? And it's not a gang."

"Then what the hell is it?" He demanded, leaning over the table slightly, as though planning to reach across and try to shake some sense into her. "They're bikers Claire. You're fucking a goddamned criminal."

Claire sighed, realizing they had more or less just been going in circles this entire conversation. "I'm not fucking him," She informed plainly. "Well, I mean, technically I am, but it's not just that. Maybe love is a hard concept for you to grasp, but I do love Chibs, and Charming, and living here, and I'm not going to leave just because Dad wants to start being a father when he only has a few months left to live."

"He doesn't even have that," Liam snapped, "He's in the hospital remember? That year or sixth months bullshit was only to make Mom feel better. He's going to die Claire."

"But why does all the responsibility have to fall to me?" Claire demanded, getting entirely too fed up with her family and their affairs. Not only that, like she had been trying to say, she had her own problems to deal with right now. "Why can't Mom stop pretending she's some kind of celebrity long enough to take care of Dad? Why don't you stop with all the partying and start trying to be a business man if you're suddenly so concerned about what will happen to the company? Or why don't you just let Ben and his family have it? I mean, obviously Dad trusted him more than he trusted me."

And that fact was probably never going to stop hurting. She had always known that her Father had been more-or-less completely disappointed in the way she had turned out, but she had still wanted him to love her, like any other child. And the only time she had asked for it, when her heart had been broken and she had felt like nothing was ever going to be right again, he had coldly turned her down and told her that it didn't matter if she couldn't love Ben; she was going to be with him anyway for the good of the family business.

Less than a month later, she had made the move to Charming, and everything had started to seem like it would be perfect. Until recently anyway. The last few weeks had managed to turn her life completely upside down. Again. And Liam wasn't even giving her time to sleep on it. She didn't hate her brother, but he was a real insensitive jerk most of the time.

"It has to fall to you because you're the only responsible one left in this family," Liam grunted in a resigned sort of way. "You know that, don't you? Even I know I don't have a head for business or real estate, Mom can't even keep track of her checking account, and Ben...if he ever does manage to buy out the company, he'll put us all out on the street. Is that what you want?"

"If that's the way it has to be, then yes. I'm sorry Liam, you're my brother, you're my family, but you don't need money like that to survive. I certainly don't, and I want nothing else to do with it. If you want to save Dad's business, then you do it. I won't sacrifice my chance at the life I want just so you and Mom can live your cushy lives. I'm sorry, but I won't."

"What about Dad?"

"I can't Liam. I'm afraid that if I saw him now, I would end up really hating him. Just...go home, okay? It would be better if at least you were there for him."

Liam heaved a heavy sigh, but his eyes stayed on Claire, and the two of them sat in silence for a moment. "I guess I can't really blame you for this. None of us gave you a reason to come back."

"Please try to understand, this isn't out of bitterness. Not entirely. I've just...I don't think I really belong with my family anymore, I don't know if I ever did. But I want things to work here, I want to stay with Chibs, and that means I have to settle some things. I have to try and make it work."

"You tried to make things work with Ben," Liam reminded, "-do you really think it will go any better this time?"

"I don't know. But I've got to try, don't I?"

She hoped she could make it work, she prayed she could make it work, because in all honesty, she wasn't sure she could deal with another heart break. And it only got worse; she knew if that woman and Chibs still had some form of a relationship, it was going to hurt ten-fold what Ben's betrayal had. She didn't even want to begin to think what that would do. But her trust could only carry her so far.

* * *

><p><em>There should be limits to suffering.<em>

Chibs thought this while Jax told him a bit of what he had missed out on while he had been laid up. The parts that stuck out the furthest were Luann's death and Jax deciding to go nomad. How much more shit was the universe going to fling them before something good happened? That aside, he wouldn't want to be in Otto's shoes for this one, or Jax's for that matter, seeing as the vice-president was the one who got to tell him. And while he was as depressed as the next Son to hear about an Old Lady's untimely death, it made him worry more about something else.

"Jackie-boy, ya seen Claire lately?" If Luann had been a victim, who was to say Claire couldn't be as well? Especially considering she hadn't been back to see him, and she lived so far separated from the Club; he wouldn't know if someone were targeting her. He shuddered at the thought of what could happen while she was so isolated out there, and he couldn't do shit about it from here.

Jax frowned a little, and shook his head. "No. Not since the other day when she was here. But uh...Mom thinks the chances are pretty good she might've run into Fiona."

"Shit..." He had been afraid of that. It wasn't like Claire to jump at someone, but Fiona was another matter entirely. Maybe the reason he hadn't seen her was because Fiona had decided to scare her off; or tell Claire the truth. "Listen, before ya go off on yer little nomad adventure, will ya go out and check on her?"

"The vote hasn't been cast yet Chibs, I might not go."

"Yu'll go whether we agree with ya or not," Chibs corrected, and knew it was true. He didn't like the idea one bit either. It was one thing to go nomad when you needed the travel, like Happy, but it was different when you were the vice-president and you were leaving your whole crew hanging, just because you couldn't get along with your step-dad.

"What do you want me to say if she did meet your wife?" Jax chose to ignore his comment, which was probably just as well.

"I dunno. It's not something talking is gonna make better."

"Guess that's probably true...I'll see if I can talk her into coming back to the Clubhouse. We can keep her safe there. And...maybe soften the blow a little."

"Thanks Jax." He might be bitter about Jax leaving the Club, but Claire came first. He would deal with knocking some sense into Jax when he knew she was safe and he could get out of this damn bed. He only hoped he would still have a chance with her when he finally could. Surely he deserved at least that much.

Of course, Claire and Jax weren't his only problems right now. If Fiona was here, that must mean Jimmy was as well, and God only knew how Chibs would handle a face-to-face confrontation with that prick; keeping his cool would probably be too much to ask. Not that he could risk that though. And what about Kerrianne? Was she alright? For what felt like the umpteenth time, Chibs cursed his current predicament. There was too much going on that he was being kept out of. He only hoped he was back on his feet in time to kick the ass of whichever one of Zobelle's little cronies planted that bomb. He would be healed soon. Until then, he just had to wait.

* * *

><p>Claire's immediate thought when she saw the black Harley in her driveway was that Chibs had made a miraculous recovery, but on closer inspection, she saw that it wasn't his. This one belonged to Jax, and it's owner was sitting on the porch swing, looking as though the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulders. She knew that feeling.<p>

She parked her car and climbed out, wordlessly sitting next to him.

"You mad at Chibs?" He finally asked, after long moments of the two of them merely sitting in silence.

"No...I don't know. Everything is really confusing right now," Claire sighed, leaning heavily back against the swing. "I feel like I shouldn't be, not while he's in the hospital, but I'm not stupid. I know that lady in the hospital has some kind of history with Chibs, and I figure she's at least part of the whole Ireland incident Gemma keeps telling me I need to ask about."

"You could say that." Jax nodded.

"I suppose you don't plan to tell me either." It was less of a question and more of a statement.

"He didn't really tell me what to say, and I don't know," Jax said forlornly, giving her a shrug. "It's not my place to tell you."

"I know. Sorry. I just hate feeling like I'm the only one not in on this little secret. Though I suppose I can guess they were together at some point."

"Yeah, they uh...they were."

"Were they still together when Chibs and I started our...thing?" She still wasn't really sure what to call it. Dating seemed too simple, love seemed too serious, but it was more than just the two of them being together.

"I doubt it. I mean, they haven't been together in a long time. But listen, it might not be that he meant to keep it from you, maybe he just didn't know what to say."

"Well, I never knew I was such a difficult person to talk to." Claire crossed her arms, realizing how bitter she must sound, but unable to stop herself. It just seemed to keep piling up. She decided to change the subject rather than dwell on it. "Jax, what brings you all the way out here anyway? I mean, you didn't come just to make excuses for Chibs."

"He was worried about you. He asked me to come see how you were."

"Oh? What, was he afraid I was going to pack up and leave or something?"

"Were you?"

"Crossed my mind," Claire admitted, frowning as she slackened her arms, folding her hands instead. Chibs had once said she had nervous hands, and he could tell what she was thinking about just by the way she was holding them. She wondered if he would be able to guess now. "I'm not very good at confrontations," She continued, Jax patiently listening, "-and I really thought about just running away and waiting for everything to be simple again. But I know that won't happen, hell, when I ran away from my family problems, they only seemed to follow me. I guess life just works that way." She shrugged. "So I guess I'll stay here and try to figure out if I still have a place."

"You're a good girl, you'll work something out."

"We'll see." Claire sighed again, not knowing if she really had the constitution to work something out. She was a natural-born push-over, and probably a little bit of a coward.

"There was...something else." Jax glanced over at her, as though he were about to say something she didn't want to hear. Which was probably true enough.

"Like what?"

"Things have been getting real bad for the Club. I dunno if you heard about Luann...but, we dunno if it will happen again."

"I heard." Claire nodded. "So...you're saying I'm in danger then, is that it?"

"I dunno. But it might be better if you kinda...stayed at the Clubhouse for awhile, just to be safe."

"Chibs' idea?"

Jax shook his head. "Mine."

"Thanks Jax, really. But I knew what I was getting into. And besides, until we know for sure it's silly to get worked up. I'll stay here. For a little while longer at least."

Jax sighed, but didn't try to convince her. She supposed he must know she was right, the only thing moving her to Clubhouse would do right now was make her an inconvenience. Or a closer target, depending on how negative she wanted to be.

"I should get back. Abel gets cranky if I don't get home at a decent time."

"Are you sure it's Abel and not Tara?" Claire asked slyly.

"Probably a little of both," Jax admitted.

He rose off the swing, and turned to give Claire a brotherly touch on the head. "Listen, you're probably not going to see me for awhile, but just know the Club is there to look out for you. If you need anything, you talk to my Mom, okay? Even if you're not an official Old Lady, we all knew it was coming sooner or later. You're family."

"Where are you going?"

"Think of it like a vacation. I need to sort some shit out, and I can't really do it here."

"So...you're running away then?"

"Not for long. I hope. Just until things can work out. Sometimes you just gotta take yourself out of the equation." Jax shrugged. "I guess I'm looking for a better perspective or something like that."

"Well...good luck then."

"Same to you darlin'."

* * *

><p>The lights were on, so he knew Claire was home. Jax had said she hadn't wanted to go back and stay in the Clubhouse, not that he could really blame her with all the chaos going on there right now, so he was glad to see no signs of any potential threat. Still unable to wear a helmet with the sutures holding the back of his head together, he hadn't really had the choice of riding his bike, but she seemed to know it was him, exiting from the house to stand on the porch.<p>

"Should you be driving?" She questioned, not leaving the porch he noticed, likely trying to keep what she perceived as a safe distance between them. This already felt ominous. But it was time to try his little confession over again, and hopefully this time, he could get everything out.

"I was worried about ya. No one's heard a damn thing from ya since I was in the hospital. I haven't seen ya in fuckin' days." He shut the van door with a snap, resisting, barely, the urge to run up the stairs and jump her. He could feel her protective wall of ice from where he stood, and knew she was upset. And he figured he could guess why.

"I didn't want to be in the way..." She said quietly, her eyes drifting off to something in the distance. "There was nothing I could do to help, so I figured I would be better off staying out from underfoot. Besides, Tara got in trouble, so I couldn't risk sneaking in again."

"Ya coulda at least called sweetheart. I was damn near panicking." Close enough to touch her, Chibs stopped, unsure whether she would accept anything from him right now. He couldn't even tell how mad she really was, she was so damned stoic about everything. Her tone of voice, her posture, her expression; everything was perfectly neutral, not even crossing her arms to give him a hint.

Claire glanced at him with those painfully impassive eyes. "You look tired." She touched his shoulder lightly, and it was an impersonal touch. It bit at him seeing how distant she had become, but when he reached for her, she took a pointed step away from him. "Chibs...is...is an explanation too much to ask?"

"It's complicated-"

"Just tell me the truth," She cut him off, and he saw the first glimmer of emotion in her eyes. Of heartbreak and sadness and pain. He was such a bastard. "The woman in the hospital. Who was she? I want to hear it from you."

"She was...is...Fiona is my wife." There was no sense trying to sugar-coat it anymore, anything less than the truth was only going to make things worse. But he still winced a little on the inside when he said it. The truth hurt. He could only imagine how Claire felt, having it dropped on her this way.

"'Is'? As in...she's currently your wife?"

"Yeah. That's the complicated part..."

"No shit," Claire practically hissed, but her expression stayed cool. "Anything else you feel like sharing?"

"I have a daughter too."

"Well. A whole little happy family you've been hiding from me. That certainly makes things a little more complicated." Her arms crossed now, but she didn't shout, didn't glare, she continued to look at him with a haunted expression. He almost wished she would get angry; it was bothering him that she could handle this all so calmly. Had he become so insignificant to her that she wasn't even going to bother getting mad? The very thought cut him straight to the bone. Had one lie earned him so much hatred? Even if it was a terrible lie?

"Claire-"

"So, what? Have you just been living a double-life, hoping neither of us found out? Have I just been your woman on the side?"

"No! Christ, Claire, that's not it at all. I told ya, it's complicated, ya gotta try to understand-"

"Do you love your wife?" Chibs froze, casting around for an answer. He didn't know what he wanted to say, he didn't know what he was supposed to say. He didn't even know for certain what he felt anymore.

"Fiona is my family, but you-"

"Chibs...Filip...please just...just answer the question." The thinly-veiled pained look was back. He sighed, and tried to put his muddled emotions into words, hoping they were coherent, hoping she would understand. You didn't just stop loving the woman you had married, the mother of your child, even if you fell in love with someone else. And he had fallen hard, which was why he silently begged Claire to understand, to give him a chance to explain, to stay. It was a shitty feeling, realizing you were in love with someone when you were on the brink of losing them.

"I do. But not like I used to. Sweetheart, things have changed-"

She held up a hand, silencing his words. She swiped the hand under her eyes, though she didn't seem to be crying. "I love you." She said simply, and while the words were there, they seemed cold and meaningless. "But I'm not so selfish that I'd ask you to choose between me and your wife. I won't make you choose."

"Claire, please, just let me explain," He was close to begging. He was willing to beg. He knew where this went next, and he would give anything to stop it.

"You had time to explain!" For the first time, Claire's control faltered, her voice went up in volume and the icy protection broke, her eyes filling with tears. "The entire time we've been together you could have at least brought up the fact that you were married! But you waited until we were practically fucking introduced!"

"I didn't want ya to find out this way." He grabbed her shoulders before she could walk away, as gently as he could and still keep her from leaving without even hearing him out.

"Did you want me to find out at all?" She demanded coldly. "You knew from the start...I told you from the very beginning what happened with Ben, and you still...now all of a sudden _I'm _the other woman? Do you have any idea how bad that hurts?" She wrenched away from his hold, pressing her hands against her eyes. She wouldn't even cry in front of him anymore. Her entire body shuddered with a repressed sob. "Get off my porch."

"Claire-"

"Leave." She glared now, pulling her hands away from her eyes to hit him on the shoulder, not hard, but it was enough to get her point across. "I won't be a part of this. I'm through. So leave." When he evidently didn't move fast enough for her liking, she turned away and strode into her house, shutting the door on anything else he could say.

The first sob that echoed through the door tore his heart out. After that, it became just a dull ache.

* * *

><p>Claire knew Chibs had waited outside her door for a good hour or two before someone finally called him back into town, she wasn't sure who or why, but she didn't care. She was glad for it; she knew he'd never let her leave. Well, maybe now he would, who knew.<p>

When the sounds of the van had faded into the distance, Claire picked up her duffel bag and purse, and carried them both out to the car. Like Jax had said, sometimes you just had to take yourself out of the equation, and see if things worked out. It was painfully obvious she was the odd-one out in this particular equation; not only did Chibs have a wife, but a child as well. Family should be more important than an extra-marital affair, and if it took packing up her broken heart and breaking it more by leaving Charming to make Chibs see that, then so be it. She wasn't going to try and take him away from his family, it was as simple as that. She refused to be responsible for putting someone else through what she had more or less experienced once before.

It wouldn't be the first time life had cheated her out of happiness, nor the last if her track record was any indication. She didn't know where she was going to go, or what she was going to do, but she would figure something out. She had to.

Claire locked her door behind her, put her meager bags in the car, and climbed in, turning it to the road that led out of town. First, she would just focus on getting away.

Maybe fate would tell her what to do after that.

* * *

><p>He had never really been a nice man. Hell, some days, he wasn't much better than your average street thug. But some days...some days he wasn't so bad, was he? Some days he was worth loving, or so he thought. But apparently those days had been too few and far between to make her stay.<p>

Chibs had known she was gone the moment he pulled into her driveway and saw the car was missing. It had been too late in the evening for her to be at work, or even at the store. His first reaction had been panic. He'd rushed to the door, fumbled his keys around, and after finally unlocking it was met with the stillness of an empty house. It hadn't been trashed the way it would have been if she had been forced to leave, everything was exactly like it had the last time he was there. Wandering to her room, he found empty hangers, the duffel bag on the closet floor missing, toothbrush and make-up gone, the systematic signs of packing a bag for a trip.

Only he knew it wasn't a trip, people came back from those. He didn't know if he would ever see Claire again.

He slumped onto the foot of the bed, unmade, the way she liked it. Hell, the way he had liked it too. Things had been so good...and then they had gone to hell faster than he could blink. What was fair about that?

He wanted Claire right now. He fucking needed her. She made shit make sense, and nothing was making sense at all. But even if she had been here, he doubted she would have just welcomed him back and offered him the warmth and compassion he'd gotten so damned used to.

When had things gotten so fucked?

Chibs rubbed his eyes, and got off her bed before everything overwhelmed him again. Even if she hated him now, he wanted to protect her, he had wanted to bring her back to the Clubhouse and offer her the same protection he had to Fiona, even knowing that should they both accept, it would mean inviting his past and his present to openly collide. It would have been worth it if it kept them both safe.

Wherever she was, he hoped she was well out of reach of the war that was about to start.

He left the room, flicking the lights off, and closing the doors behind him. Someday he would find her, and someday he would make things right between them. But until then, he had to focus on Fiona and his daughter. For now, he would have to make do with the house and the memories.


	12. Chapter 12

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Well, I think I said being in college was going to slow me down, but that doesn't really seem to be the case. Although, no guarantees it's going to stay that way. :) Anyway, I usually try to stay as close to what happened in the show as possible, but, well, I just couldn't make it happen and still find a way to bring Claire back without it feeling horribly forced to me, and I like the way this turned out. :) It's still pretty close to what happened towards the end of season three, so I think it can still just happen. Anyway, yeah, I'm going to stop rambling now, and let ya'll get to the actual story part. You know the drill. :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Aftermath<strong>

It wasn't the first time he had called her, but it was probably the first time in a long time she had wanted to pick up, really wanted to answer, hear his voice, see if he cracked a joke or two, see if it eased the pain.

Claire let the phone ring a couple more times, the name above the number on the caller ID taunting her, daring her. She reached for it, but the call ended. She sighed in defeat, and leaned back in the desk chair. So far, Chibs had called her twice a week, every Friday and Monday at six P.M., and so far, she had been too angry, too depressed, or just too weak to pick up the phone. She plucked the cell up from its place, staring at the call log for moments that seemed close to hours. And then it beeped. Chibs had left a message.

She stared wide-eyed at the simple memo on the screen, her mind going blank for a good minute or two. He hadn't left a message before. Her fingers shaking, but unable to stop herself, Claire selected the voice-mail, pressing it to her ear. Would it be easier if she wasn't expected to respond? What if it was bad news she didn't want to hear? Before she could debate it further, the voice-mail started to play.

"Sweetheart...Claire..." There was a sigh into the phone, but God, had she missed hearing his voice, "-I...I'm sorry, truly I am. I don't know what else to say. Ya don't have to call me back but...but Christ, could ya just let me know yer alright? Text Tig for all I care. I just need to know yer in one piece, but I don't even know where ya are...look, we're goin' out to Belfast soon. I wanna know if I can see ya before that, try and make things right. Claire, I...never mind." And on an angry-sounding exhale, his phone clicked off.

Her fingers had already started pressing in his familiar number, wanting so desperately to talk to him, but then they froze, Claire's brain seizing up. Belfast. Belfast meant Ireland. Ireland meant Fiona. Was 'making things right' merely a nicer way of saying it was just going to be goodbye?

Maybe it was one thing to be with her when he and Fiona hadn't been together in who knew how long, but she was not all that sold on the idea of going to meet Chibs before he left, knowing his wife and daughter were waiting for him halfway around the world. That would just never sit right with her; as best she could figure, it would be like handing Chibs a dull knife and asking him to put her out of her misery. How in the hell was she supposed to go see him and try to work out whatever was left of their relationship knowing he was going to turn right around and go to Fiona? It was borderline cruel of him to ask such a thing, and not just to her. Surely Fiona would be hurt, knowing Chibs had been meeting with his mistress, and did she ever detest being able to attach that term to herself, right up until they were together again. The only one who wouldn't be hurt by that interaction was, presumably, Chibs.

That being the case, he could just go fuck himself.

Claire's heart hadn't just been broken, it had practically shattered. She had been in love, really in love, for the first time in her life, and of course fate, and perhaps Chibs as well, had thrown it to the ground and stomped on it. If that didn't turn a woman into a cold-hearted bitch, she didn't know what would. Only she wasn't cold. She may have acted that way, right up until she had left Charming, but she wasn't cold. She was just hurt. Agonizingly hurt.

Halfheartedly, Claire turned the phone off and set it back where it had been laying. There was no way to make things right on her end, and if he was feeling guilty, he would just have to deal with it himself, because she wasn't going to help him ease it. She didn't know if she could bear it.

Moments later, she picked it back up and turned it on. She was going to have to tell him that, and she knew it. Putting an end to it was the only thing that was going to ease the ache. This wasn't the way she had wanted this to end, but now, it seemed like the only way.

* * *

><p>Back in Charming, Chibs set his own cell aside, picking up his beer instead with a heavy sigh.<p>

"Any luck?" Opie asked from the end of the bar. It was a slow day at the garage, seeing as MC business had started interfering with legit business, which left the mechanics with little else to do besides drink and lay around.

"Fuckin' voice-mail. She still won't answer," Chibs answered with a shrug, wondering if she even used the same phone any more. It still had her voice-mail recording, and that was good enough for him to keep calling the same number.

"Try a prepaid," Opie suggested.

"I have. I think she knows when it's me though. Somehow." He barely resisted the urge to throw the goddamned pointless piece of technology to the ground and spit on it. No one knew where she had gone, she hadn't talked to anyone, not even Gemma; Claire had just packed up in the middle of the night and left Charming. The phone was the only means of communication he had, and it was proving itself to be fruitless.

About the time he started debating tossing the useless thing into the nearest pitcher, it started to ring. And he recognized the number in an instant.

"It's Claire," He said aloud, needing to confirm it to something other than his imagination. Opie leaned over, and then waved him off, giving Chibs leave for privacy. He scooped the phone up and vacated the bar to the back lot, which was void of any activity, flipping the phone open. "Claire? Are ya-"

"I'm fine," She interrupted, her voice cool, impeccably polite, and Chibs didn't buy her statement for a goddamn second. "I got your message," She continued, her voice still void of emotion.

"Well then, where the fuck are ya?"

"The answer is no."

"What?"

"No. I don't want you to see me before you go to Belfast. I just want you to go. And if you do come back, I'd like you to lose my phone number. Or I'll change it. Whichever you prefer."

"Now hold on just a fuckin' second there sweetheart, yer getting a little ahead of yerself. I ain't gonna lose yer number, and ya fuckin' know I'll come back."

"Will you?"

"Yes, goddamnit! My life is here."

"But your wife and daughter are in Belfast, right?"

His argument hitched at that. He should have known she would have guessed that by now. "Yeah. They are," He confessed quietly.

"Then I don't think you really need an explanation as to why I'm telling you to leave me alone."

"Claire-"

"I meant it when I said I was through with this love triangle. I won't be a part of it anymore. I wouldn't have been from the very beginning if I'd known. I'm sorry if you feel guilty, but you know keeping contact with me is only going to hurt Fiona. We don't both need to hurt over this."

"But yer hurting, ya think I prefer that?"

"No. But it's okay. I'll get over it, sooner or later. It would be easier if you just...you know...left me alone."

"I can't do that."

"Yes you can, if you stop being so stubborn. What do you want me to say? That I'm happy to be a home-wrecking whore?"

"I never said anything like that!" His frustration was starting to color his voice. Why was it so difficult to reason with her, to explain? Though, he had essentially known that it would be this way when Claire found out about Fiona and Kerrianne. That somehow, she would make it all her fault, make herself feel like the bad guy. He had always known that's what it would come down to, and now, more than ever, he wished he had told her the truth from the beginning, even if it would have kept their relationship from ever becoming as serious as it had; at least then she would be here right now, he would at least know she was safe.

And he wouldn't have broken her heart. Not like this.

"It doesn't matter whether you say it or not. That's the truth. Face it Chibs, you just can't have your mistress and your wife at the same time. Not when they know, and I'm pretty sure Fiona isn't oblivious. It's over, get used to the idea. Please." Her voice was bordering on actual pleading, and he could sense that she was repressing the urge to cry. She didn't want to say goodbye, but she felt like she had to. And it was taking all her willpower to say so.

"Fine." He finally conceded, finally admitting defeat. "Fine. It can be over. But...promise me yu'll stay safe, wherever ya are."

"Yeah. Well, I don't hang out with gun-running bikers anymore, so I don't think I'll get into too much trouble." He could tell that had been meant as a barb, meant as a statement to make him angry at her, probably so he would leave her alone, but her voice lacked the required snap. She sounded more like she was silently crying around the words.

"Claire."

"What?"

"I never once thought of ya as a mistress. I meant it when I said I was gonna make ya my Old Lady. I love ya. Don't ever think I'd lie to ya about that."

"Chibs, it's kinda late to be confessing your feelings." Now she was crying, and she was unable to hide it. He couldn't decide if it made him feel better or worse. At least it indicated she wasn't going to pretend like it meant nothing to her.

"I know. Sorry."

"I'm going to change my number tomorrow." And after that, the line went dead.

Chibs held the phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone for a good minute or two before it finally sank in. Claire had just said goodbye. For forever. He threw the phone this time out of sheer rage.

He wasn't sure what he had been planning to accomplish when he was finally able to speak to her again, but that hadn't been it. He also knew that she was probably right. It wasn't like he could have Claire and Fiona, and Fiona definitely hadn't been oblivious to the going-ons between them. He supposed he would have had to find a solution eventually. He just would have liked to come up with one that didn't hurt one of them, and make him feel like pond scum.

Within the next two days, he'd be back in Belfast, back with his wife and daughter. He supposed he'd have a better handle on things, on what he wanted, after things with Jimmy were finally settled.

Not that it really mattered. It seemed he had officially lost Claire. That significantly narrowed his choices.

* * *

><p>He got the feeling it would have been easier to leave Belfast if he'd known Claire was waiting for him. But he knew she wasn't, she probably didn't even know or care he was coming back at all. It wasn't that he had left Ireland because he had chosen Claire over his family, nor had he debated staying in Ireland because he had chosen his family. It was just how the cookie had crumbled, for lack of a better phrase. Kerrianne had summed it up, she wasn't leaving the Emerald Isle, and he wasn't about to force her. That wouldn't be his first act as a Father after so long of not even being there. He knew Fiona wouldn't leave again, even temporarily, not without their daughter, and, like he had told Claire, his life was in Charming. He had thought, briefly, of staying with SAMBEL, but had known instantly that he wouldn't be happy, even if he would have been with his girls finally. He had made his niche, they had made theirs. They had been apart so long, it wasn't as though they needed to be together to be a family. The love was there, that was all that mattered.<p>

Still, leaving them had ripped open places just starting to heal. A row of scars on his heart right next to those Claire had left with that final phone call. He loved all three of them, and now he couldn't have any of them.

Back to a lonely life, a string of one-nighters that never made him feel whole, looking for something he had managed to find twice and successfully lose both times. Shit. He was a freaking soap opera in disguise as a human, and his internal monologues were starting to sound like a dramatic novel. He only hoped once life started to get back to normal, he would manage to perk up to his old chipper self. He was bordering on pathetic here.

Of course, the depressing outlook could have just as much to do with the knowledge that Jimmy had slipped out of his hands yet again. He supposed he could rejoice at the fact he was ex-communicated from Ireland, something Chibs knew the brunt of fairly well, so the girls were safe. Chibs just had to get to him before ATF or the FBI or somebody else who would spare his miserable little life did first. He was going to kill that son of a bitch if it was his last act on God's green earth. If not to serve a greater purpose, then to balm his own pain and suffering. It would make the scars on his face that much easier to carry at the very least. They'd be less a reminder, and more a trophy.

One thing at a time though. They weren't even on the ground yet. And once they were, there was something more important than his personal vendetta to deal with first. Before anything else went wrong, the Sons had to find Tara.

When you got right down to it, no matter what ended up happening to the members of SAMCRO, it was always the wives, the girlfriends, the kids who ended up suffering the most. Maybe it was better keeping those he loved away from the Sons, away from his life. He was probably doing them a favor by living alone. If he was smart, he would probably just swear off women all together, and make damn sure he didn't father any more children while he was at it.

California scenery, welcoming and familiar, began to pass beneath the windows, but he knew, even from here, that something was going to be missing now.

* * *

><p>Chibs wondered if it could be considered a bad habit, if not a creepy one, that he stayed at what had once been Claire's house three or four times a week. He couldn't really help it, the place had started to feel like home; sometimes it was impossible to sleep until he came out here. He put the bike in the back, just in case anyone happened to drive by and think he had broken in, but so far, no one had payed it any mind, and as long as he sent cash for the utilities from her address, it looked like she hadn't left at all to the electric and water company. Just that she had decided she didn't want to leave a paper trail anymore.<p>

Strangely enough, it still felt the same, even with her gone.

He sat on the couch drinking one of beers he still kept in the fridge, and blankly stared at the TV screen, playing the movie she had left in the DVD player. _Dirty Dancing, _one of her favorites; she was such a girl sometimes. Claire had never bothered with cable or satellite, hating commercials with a passion, but she had a DVD collection to rival the local movie rental. She had something for everyone, from cheesy comedy to Hollywood classics, all the way down to B-rated horror, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she had seen them all and loved them all in her own way. But damn did this stupid movie make him miss her, he was probably being a masochist. Annoyed at the idea, Chibs hit the power button on the remote, shutting the TV off. Where had she gone and just left all her things behind like this anyway? Sure, she had obviously packed a little, but it was the bare essentials. Surely she planned to return at some point and get all her other clothes and her movies and her books. He hoped he was here the day she did.

Chibs rose from the couch, draining what was left of the beer. As homey as it felt here, he hated it almost as much as he liked it. It was full of memories. Memories that now seemed painful. With nothing else to do, he figured he might as well just suck it up and face another day at the garage. Christ. He needed to get out of this mopey slump, and he needed to do it fast. He was starting to piss himself off.

He left the house and navigated through town, not at all surprised to be one of the first who showed up at Teller-Marrow. Gemma passed by him on her way to the office, giving him the usual appraising eye she gave when she sensed something was wrong.

"You doing okay?" She questioned, and Chibs could only shrug.

"Suppose so."

"Did you stay out at her place last night?" It was unmistakable who the 'her' was referring to.

"Yeah. Can't seem to help it." Chibs shrugged again. Gemma's lips quirked down in a sympathetic half-frown.

"You fell for her hard baby. It'll hurt for awhile."

"Great. Somethin' to look forward to," Chibs bit out morosely. Gemma ignored the less-than-happy remark and merely gave him a maternal pat on the cheek.

"She cared too much not to miss you eventually Chibs. Just be patient."

Chibs felt the little flutter of faith he had to continually force down, for fear it would make him too hopeful. Even if it wasn't for him, she had to come back to Charming sooner or later. She loved the town too much, and the town loved her too much, for Claire to stay away forever. "I just wish I knew where she went." Gemma's hand stopped its gentle patting, settling on his face as she looked at him intently.

"You could always go look for her."

Chibs repressed a sarcastic snort of laughter. "Whaddya want me to to do? Drive around the country and pull over every time I see a red-head?" Gemma laughed lightly, as though only now realizing the absurdity of her suggestion.

"You've got a point. I just hate to see you sitting around and moping like this."

"Yeah, I'm not too fond of it either." Chibs shrugged again and pulled the Queen's hand away from his face gently. "But considering she told me she wanted nothing to do with me, I think it best to let her start missin' me first. 'Sides, it's about time to settle things with that O'Phelan bastard, and I don't want Claire being here for that."

"You do realize that's exactly why things blew up in your face last time, right?"

"What?" Gemma sighed, giving Chibs a look as though she thought he was being deliberately dense. Which he wasn't. He wasn't trying to be even a little dense.

"You can't keep her on the fringes of your life Chibs. You have to let her in, Claire can't understand you if you don't tell her anything."

"I'll tell her," Chibs promised, turning from Gemma to the garage, "-after I kill that prick. After that, the past can finally stay where it belongs."

* * *

><p>It was a good hour later when his phone began to ring, and when he didn't recognize the number, his heart did the tiniest of flip-flops, and he realized he was almost praying that it was Claire. He tried not to let it be heard in his voice as he flipped it open. "Hullo?"<p>

"What's doin' Filip?"

Chibs' insides froze over. "How the fuck didja get this number Jimmy?"

"Let's just say I know who ta ask, a'right?" Jimmy's self-satisfied tone was enough to make Chibs want to be sick. As though sensing he was about to snap the phone in half rather than listen, Jimmy spoke again, somewhat hurriedly. "Yer gonna wanna hear this Filip. Trust me on tha' one. Ya alone?"

Without a word to the other Sons, Chibs vacated the garage, locking himself in his room instead. "What the hell do ya want, ya prick?"

"S'more of a question really," Jimmy said, deliberately trying to sound bored. The hand not holding the phone curled into a tight fist. "Y'know that girl ya were seein'? The one ya were kinda serious about; pretty, red hair, nice tits? What was her name?"

As far as Chibs knew, there was only one person that description would refer to. "Ya better not even be in the same state as Claire, ya fuckin' bastard!"

"Right! Claire, that was her name. Claire Reinhardt, aye? Daddy's a big real estate guy. Gotta say, ya made a good pick with that one Filip. Decent looking _and _loaded. She seems real sweet too. Anyway, here's my question for ya, suppose I wanted to get my hands on some money, 'nough ta buy the Russian's lets say. Ya suppose her family would pay that ta get her back? Or d'ya think I'd have to send them a finger or two? Make sure they know I'm serious."

Chibs' heart dropped to his stomach like a lead weight. He could see what this was. As believable as it was that Jimmy would try a ransom, this was probably more to make sure the Sons stayed off his back, specifically, him. Jimmy had lost access to his wife and child, so now, he was going to hold Claire over Chibs' head. How had Jimmy found her? Had he found her? He wouldn't put it past the McPrick to lie, just to get Chibs squirming, just to hold him off from going after Jimmy's head, and hold back the rest of SAMCRO for fear of her safety. Even if Jimmy was doing it just to fuck with him, he wasn't sure it was a chance he wanted to take.

"Silence? C'mon now, I figured ya'd at least ask after her. Should I send ya a couple of her fingers too, fer the sentimental value?"

"How do I know yer not just lying to save yer own ass?"

"Ah, I see. Suppose ya don't do ya? Well, guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't ya Filip? She looked lovely at her Father's funeral, by the way." With that last dig into Chibs, Jimmy silenced his end of the phone. Seconds later, it beeped with a text message, from the same number Jimmy had just called him from. Claire. The picture was small, grainy, but he recognized her easily, and Chibs thought he legitimately felt his heart stop beating for a moment. It had a single word typed beneath it, declaring the picture 'PROOF'. Chibs knew in that second that he had to find her and get her ass back in Charming where he could watch it, her anger be damned. Trouble was, he still hadn't the faintest clue where she had run off to. And then Jimmy's last statement clicked.

Christ. She had gone home. She was in Portland, and Jimmy was close enough to be taking pictures of her. Or at the very least, he had some little crony of his close enough to do so, and neither option boded all that well in Chibs' mind.

"Fuckin' hell!" He stuffed the phone into his pocket, and grabbed the holstered gun hanging on the back of the door, heading for the parking lot of the garage at a dead run.

Not again. This shit was not going to happen again. He was not going to let Jimmy get his slimy hands on Claire. He was not letting the woman he loved take the fall for him for a second time in his life.

"Chibs? Where the fuck are you going?" Jax questioned as Chibs nearly barreled over him in his haste.

"I gotta go to Portland," Chibs answered shortly, only breaking his pace long enough to swing his leg over his bike.

"The hell for?"

"Fuckin' O'Phelan knows where Claire is."

* * *

><p>Claire hated her Father's office. It was huge, opulent, and one wall was almost entirely windows, and yet, somehow, it still felt oppressive. The Reinhardt office building was fairly modest in size, but not in furnishings, which she supposed wasn't so bad as she kicked off her heels and sank her toes into the plush carpeting, probably something her Father had never even thought of doing. She settled into his freakishly comfortable chair, and tried to look over the contracts she was supposed to sign for what felt like the millionth time, but was fairly easily distracted by the lowering sun outside the windows.<p>

_Just a few more days. _She reminded herself. A few more days, and the board of directors would be finalized, the company divided amongst several ruling bodies as opposed to one, and she could step down from this ridiculous figure-head position she was currently playing. She would be glad to be rid of it finally. She really was just a push-over, letting Liam and her Mother muscle her into being the one who had to sign everything. If it went bad, she'd wind up getting the blame. That said, her Father had been the one to leave this business plan in his will, so she supposed she was only carrying out his last wishes.

Claire sighed, and leaned back and rubbed her eyes, heedless of the fact it was probably smearing her make-up. She hadn't managed to cry at his funeral. Her Mother had, clinging to Claire's arm as she sobbed into a tissue, though Claire expected it had largely been a show for the other guests. Her eyes had been dry before they even returned to the car. God she missed Charming. She missed her life there. And she missed Chibs especially, though that hurt her the most. She didn't want to miss him, she wanted to still be angry at him; but she just didn't seem to have it in her anymore. Whenever she thought of him now, which was probably more often than she ought to admit, it was just longing for what had been, not so much anger anymore.

She jolted as she was abruptly pulled from her reverie by the desk phone blaring to alert her that the secretary, who still insisted on working though Claire hadn't had a need for her, was calling from her desk outside the door. She plucked the phone from its cradle, hoping to God it wasn't another well-wisher offering condolences. She had listened to about all of the false sympathy she could tolerate.

"What is it Andrea?"

"Uhm...Miss Reinhardt, there's someone here for you, and they're very insistent that you see them right away."

"Okay...who is it?"

"Well, he- Hey!" The Andrea's voice grew small, as though the phone had been taken from her hands.

"Sweetheart, ya gotta let me talk to ya."

Claire dropped the phone. Chibs? Chibs was here? Or was she totally losing it? She shot out of the desk chair and ran for the door.

* * *

><p>"Claire? Claire, this is fuckin' serious," Chibs continued to talk into the phone, though it was likely in vain, as it sounded like she had hung up on him. The skinny little blonde behind the desk was still yelling at him and threatening to call the police as he set the phone down and started to storm towards the office door, fully intending to barge in there and drag her away if need be.<p>

But he hadn't the need. Claire nearly threw the door open just as he reached for the knob, and for a long, long moment, they could only stare at each other.

"You're here..." For just a second she seemed close to tears, but then her face smoothed into one of those masks she was getting prone to putting on, and she turned to the blonde. "It's okay Andrea. He's a friend. Head home, alright?"

"But-"

"It's okay, I promise. Go on." Claire gave her a smile that was half encouraging, half pleading. The blonde obeyed, though the look she gave Chibs on her way was positively venomous. "Come on," She added to Chibs, turning back into the office, and he assumed he was to follow. He couldn't help but watch the delicate swish of the skirt against her legs, but he was more put off by the whole business lady get-up than he was turned on by it. She almost looked strange, with her hair combed down and smooth, her make-up bland and professional looking, her clothes so neat and shapeless, and clearly expensive; she wasn't even wearing the same perfume as she had before. Where was _his _Claire buried in there? The one who who had loved her rockstar tangles, who loved her eyeliner, loved her faded jeans and boots, and loved that addictive fucking perfume almost as much as he did?

She turned to lean on the desk, and he noticed then she was barefoot, which meant she wasn't entirely as professional as she looked, but the look she was giving him was less-than friendly.

"How did you find me?"

"Asked a lot of people, bribed a few, and threatened some others, namely the security guards by the front door." Chibs shrugged, not willing to tell her why he was really here. Not yet. "Plus, the big sign on the building that says 'Reinhardt' was a pretty good clue."

"But how did you know I came home?" Claire asked, crossing her arms across her fancy suit-jacket. "Wait, don't tell me. You had Juice hack my credit card company or something, right?"

"Claire, listen, ya hafta come back to Charming."

Her eyebrows shot up, and her mouth dropped open briefly, before it firmed back into a line. "Excuse me? I'm kind of busy here Chibs. In case you didn't hear, my Father died less than a week ago. It's kind of a bad time for me to running away out of the blue. Especially with you."

The pointed words didn't go unnoticed, but he brushed them off. She could hate him all she wanted, that wasn't going to stop him from protecting her. Not this time. He never should have let her leave in the first place.

"Yer in danger sweetheart. Ya need to come back so we can protect ya."

"In danger of what exactly?" He could tell by her tone she didn't believe a single word he was saying. Not that he could really blame her. He hadn't exactly proven himself the most trustworthy of fellows.

"Things with the IRA went a little...south while we were in Belfast. Things might blowback...and they might affect ya."

"And why, pray tell, would one of your guys' fuck-ups affect me?" Claire's mouth had now begun to tilt down in a frown, and she didn't seem to be any more believing. "What did you get me into Chibs?" She asked then, cocking her head to the side just slightly. "How does the IRA even know you have anything to do with me?"

"I donno, alright? I never told 'em about ya, so I donno. And it's not so much the IRA as it is...fuck, Claire, would ya just listen to me? Ya gotta come back to Charming with me."

"No, I most certainly do not Filip. I've got things I need to deal with here. I planned to go back at the end of this month, after my Mother and the business was settled anyway." She shook her head stubbornly. "But what makes you think the Club can take better care of me? I think I'm safe here."

"I got in, didn't I?" Chibs pointed out. "He's threatenin' to kill ya sweetheart, ya can't tell me to just leave ya be alone like this."

"Who? Who exactly is threatening me?" Her eyes flickered with something close to concern, but she still looked mostly unmoved and unconvinced. Chibs sighed and dragged a hand down his face. This wasn't really going the way he had planned when he opted to come to her rescue. Sure, he hadn't really expected her to jump into his arms or anything like that, but he had hoped she would take it on good faith and believe him when he said she was in danger. She didn't think he would lie about that, did she?

"That's not important. What's important right now is yer life. Yu've just gotta trust me for now, alright?"

"Trust you? I don't exactly have an easy time of that right now Chibs."

"I know," He sighed, dragging the same hand over his face again. He hadn't wanted it to come down to scaring her, but it seemed the only way to convince her was to show her the proof Jimmy had sent him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened it to the picture. "I got this earlier today." He held it out to her, and she took it, brows furrowing in confusion, Chibs continued while she seemed willing to listen. "Claire, I know this guy. He's a violent motherfucker. He got close enough to take this, and he doesn't have to get that close to kill ya. But he will. And he'll make sure it hurts ya, me, yer family, everyone it can. He won't just kill ya and be done with it, he wants money from yer family, and he wants me to stop the Club from goin' after him." She visibly paled, and her lip trembled just the tiniest bit as she looked up at him. Chibs felt a stab of guilt for having to bully her into this, but she really hadn't left him much choice.

"This is from the dinner after the funeral..." She mumbled quietly, her voice shaking almost imperceptibly, and her eyes drifting down to the small picture again. "It was supposed to be a family only...how did he get in?"

"I donno sweetheart." For the first time in what was realistically weeks, but felt more like eternity, Chibs reached out and touched her, setting his hands on her shoulders gently. "But I promise I'm not gonna let him hurt ya. If ya don't want to go back to Charming, then I'll stay here instead. I won't let anything happen to ya."

Her shoulders lowered with an exhale, Claire looking at the floor between them rather than the picture or him. "Who is he?"

Chibs had planned to tell her, sooner or later, but he had hoped it would never be under circumstances like these. "His name's Jimmy O'Phelan. Back when I worked with the IRA, guess ya could say we were friends. Course, turned out in the end he was a backstabbing bastard...he took my family from me, Fiona and Kerrianne, he made damn sure I could never go back to Ireland...and he's the one that cut my face up." Her eyes darted up now, the pain in her eyes likely for his sake rather than her own at the mention of Fiona. "Claire, he will hurt ya, even if it's for no reason but to hurt me. Please, come back to Charming. Just for a little while. Just until I take care of Jimmy."

"And...by take 'care of him', I gather you mean that you're going to kill him?" She asked, but it seemed she had already guessed the answer.

"Yeah, I am. Trust me, sweetheart, it's the only thing that's gonna keep this from happening again. I'll kill him in California, or I'll kill him Oregon, it makes no difference to me, s'long as he ends up dead."

"If...I said I was willing to go back, would you at least let me go pack some things?"

Chibs felt his face fall into a relieved smile. As far as he was concerned, the hard part was over. "Sure. Yer gonna wanna change yer clothes too."

"Why?"

"Ya can't ride in a skirt."

"Who said anything about riding? I planned to drive myself back."

"I can almost guarantee ya Jimmy or whoever he's got up here watchin' ya knows what kinda car ya drive."

"Yeah, and a Harley is so much less conspicuous."

"Easier to dodge traffic lovely. I'll follow you." She shrugged his hands off her shoulders, but didn't seem in the mood to argue further, turning to grab her shoes and purse from beside the desk.

* * *

><p><em>I must have done something to really throw the universe out of whack, <em>Claire decided, wanting for all the world to slam her head against the steering wheel of her Jetta. She glanced in the rear view mirror, Chibs right on her tail. It shouldn't have comforted her to see him, but it did. At least if he was there, she knew she wasn't alone in this crazy mess, she wasn't just going insane. She wouldn't say she had exactly felt safe coming back home, not the way she did in Charming, where she knew she had friends watching her back, but knowing her security had been so easily breached, and the privacy of her family so easily violated, suddenly made everyone feel like an enemy.

Still, she had to be going a little crazy. Because that would be the only reason she had agreed to go back to Charming with Chibs instead of taking this whole mess straight to the police and letting them sort it out. Then again, she seriously doubted the police would believe a story that went something like: This guy from the IRA seems to be stalking me, of course, this is according to my ex-lover who happens to a member of a motorcycle gang which makes deals with the same IRA, though the only proof I have is this one little cellphone picture, but it sounds like he's pretty intent on killing me, or at least kidnapping me.

Even in her head the whole thing sounded completely ludicrous. Of course, she would try to use a little more tact than that, but the fact of the matter was, she really had nothing to go on but Chibs' word that this guy was out to get her, and well...he had sounded pretty sincere about the whole thing. At the very least, she didn't think he would lie about what this Jimmy guy had done to him, just to make her believe him. And that being the case, it wouldn't be a very far jump to more kidnapping and murder.

Claire shuddered, suddenly feeling very small and scared. She had honestly never really feared for her life before, but now she did, just a little. She glanced in the mirror again. He was still there. She couldn't deny that even though she still felt a little betrayed, and a lot hurt, she felt a whole hell of a lot safer knowing Chibs was there. Even if things were drastically different between them, he had still come all this way, just to try and protect her. She pulled the car into the parkade attached to the building that held her mother's penthouse apartment. Well, technically it was under her father's name, but now it was just her mother, and the spare room Claire had been sleeping in while she was here.

Chibs followed suit and she led him through the main doors within the garage. They were silent as they walked to the elevator, though the opulence of the lobby of the building wasn't lost on him, judging by the way he pushed his sunglasses up to get a better look at the little gilded statues in the corners.

"Shit, ya live here?"

"My parents do. Er...my Mother does anyway. I've been staying in the spare room is all."

"Did ya come right back here after...ya know?" Chibs asked, his voice dropping a little bit.

"No. I was staying with a couple friends for awhile, just trying to sort myself out, and then when my Father died I came up here to help with the funeral arrangements and...yeah...I just ended up staying." She shrugged, not wanting to make him feel worse with details about the broken-hearted bouts of tears or anything like that. She slipped the card key through the elevator's security reader, ignoring the the looks they received from the couple who lived on the floor below her Mother as they strode to the doors. She supposed Chibs did look a little out of place.

The elevator doors put them directly in the living room of her Mother's penthouse, Chibs seeming content to follow on her heels like a bodyguard.

"Wait here for a second?" Claire asked, he nodded and simply stood in the living room while she carried on to what had been her room for the duration of her stay. She was going to have to leave some sort of message explaining why she had taken off unexpectedly. And probably instructions for Liam to finish up with the directors. He had a business degree though, so she figured if it was really necessary, he would manage to figure it out. He wasn't as dumb as he pretended to be.

She opened the closet, sorting through the random clothes she had been borrowing from her Mother for the sake of business to dig out the jeans and t-shirts in the back. Was she seriously going to let Chibs talk her into this? Was this Jimmy guy really that much of a threat? Or did she even have the luxury of wondering that?

She had already decided going to the police was useless, and it was already pretty clear that he could get close to her, so Chibs was really her only option. She knew she couldn't go to the police without telling them how she had ended up getting involved, however abstractly, with the IRA, and that would mean telling them what little she knew for certain about the Sons of Anarchy. She couldn't and wouldn't do that. She didn't want to see Chibs, or any of the others, go to jail, but...would going back only dig her into a deeper hole?

She tried to shake it out of her head, wriggling into the jeans and pulling her knee-high leather boots from closet floor. He had said he would let her go when it was over. And she would go. She had to. Being near him was painful, even now, because she knew being with him wasn't really an option anymore, her conscience wouldn't let her.

Claire threw some essentials into the Timbuktu bag lying on her floor, knowing she didn't really need clothes, as she had left most of them in Charming, so she stuck with what she could carry on her back. She grabbed a coat and turned back into the living room where Chibs still stood, absently glancing around the room.

"Ready?" He asked, glancing over at her, and giving a raised eyebrow to the boots.

"What? It's Oregon. It rains a lot." She defended, though she wasn't oblivious to the fact they were meant to be motorcycle boots. She hadn't bought them with the intention of ever riding again, but now she was glad she had made the impulse buy.

"I didn't say anything," He pointed out with an easy smile. It faded quickly. "We should get going."

"Are...are you sure about this Chibs?"

"I don't wanna be. But I am." He looked at her forlornly, and Claire realized how hard he was probably kicking himself over this.

"I don't suppose you brought an extra helmet, did you?"

"Yeah. I brought yers." Trying to ignore how much that made it sound like he had planned to make her leave whether she agreed with him or not, Claire nodded, and the two of them walked back to the elevator. She halted momentarily to scribble a note on the pad by the phone that she had gone down to California to take care of some business. Her Mother probably wouldn't even question it.

For better or worse, she was going back to Charming, and she was doing so on the back of Chibs' motorcycle.


	13. Chapter 13

**Baby, It's You**

_Author's Note: Firstly, you have my deepest, deepest apologies for how long it took me to get this up. And also for this to be the last chapter. Firstly, there was a lot going on in my life lately, literary wise, school wise and family wise, so my muse kind of abandoned me for a long time, and when it finally came back, I basically made a whole bunch of changes. The cut-and-dry version is that I decided not to write a sequel. I had a few ideas, and it was called "Baby, I'm Yours" but it just wasn't going to work out. A one-shot is likely, but I can't make any promises. So yeah, I realize it's not super conclusive, but I liked the ending, and I really wanted to end it on 13, like the first three season of the show. And as for what happens to Chibs and Claire later, just use your imaginations. :) Once again, I'm sorry for those who were probably getting frustrated with the time it's taken me, and I hope you'll forgive me and read it anyway. So, until I come up with something new, ciao my friends. :) Oh, and as usual, thanks to Lizzy for the pre-read!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 13: Reconvene<strong>

Less than sixty miles down the road, Chibs decided a stop at a gas station and a Seven-Eleven would be a prudent idea. Partially because he hadn't been thinking all that far ahead when he had left Charming and his fuel needle was getting dangerously near empty, partially because both his and Claire's stomachs had been growling since they had passed through Salem, and partially because he knew Claire's rear was probably protesting such an abnormally long trip. Being on a motorcycle for long periods of time took some getting used to, and soreness was common; though she didn't show it if she was as she slid off the bike at his side.

In the entire hour they had been glued together for the ride they hadn't spoken, and the awkwardness was still present, Claire sitting on the curb with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a sandwich in the other, watching her toes or the occasional customer entering the convenience store. Basically, she was looking at anything that wasn't him.

"Ya okay?" Chibs finally ventured, realizing a moment later it was more or less a pointless question. How could anyone be okay in this situation?

Claire shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. "Fine, I guess. My life just got turned totally upside down. Again. No big deal."

"I'm sorry about this sweetheart. I really am."

"I'm not blaming you," Claire said, softly shaking her head. "I'm just amazed at the fact that the dust never settles, you know? It seems like anytime I find some kind of peace with my existence, something has to come along and kick the legs out from under me." She stuck the last of the sandwich in her mouth, chewing and swallowing while shrugging again. "I believe in karma and everything, but now I just really want to know what I did to piss the universe off so bad." Her voice faltered, but she refused to let it go further than that, trying to hide the tiny tremor in another sip of coffee.

It made the old, overly-protective urge rise in Chibs' chest. The one that made him want to kill anything and anyone that caused Claire any pain. Of course, at this point, that would mean he would have to shoot himself, and probably more than once.

"Sweetheart, ya know, I didn't tell ya about Fiona, or the truth about SAMCRO cuz I knew that if ya knew about her and what I really did, yu'd leave. I always figured I would tell ya the truth when I thought ya were ready to hear it. But then I couldn't, cuz I knew what ya would think." Chibs sat next to her on the curb, balancing his own coffee and wishing for all the world he had more tact. But, the fact of the matter was, he wasn't a poet. He wasn't even close. Claire watched him with one eyebrow raised, as though she had never expected him to tell her any of this. "Basically, I lied to ya because I didn't want to lose ya," He finally concluded, glancing over at her and meeting her amber eyes with an awkward, apologetic smile. "I didn't wanna hurt ya. Course, that pretty well fucking backfired, didn't it?"

Claire looked away again, and he wondered if she was just going to ignore him. At this point, he really wouldn't put it past her. Sure, he could understand her being bitter, but he knew Claire better than to think she hated him. At least, she didn't hate him enough to pretend like he wasn't trying to make things right.

"I think," She began, after a few seconds of silence, contemplating her coffee rather than him, "-that the saying goes: 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions' or something like that." She met his gaze a second time. "People lie all the time Chibs. You wouldn't be the first, and I seriously doubt you'll be the last. At least you had the good intentions I guess." She finished off the coffee, but still fiddled with the empty cup, her nervous hands making themselves busy. "So, what happens now?"

Chibs wanted very badly to reach over and still her hands, but knew other than hanging onto him on the road, touching was pretty well off-limits. That said, he also chose not to notice her obvious and sudden subject change. "For now, I get ya back to Charming. We'll work out the rest when we get that far." She snorted.

"You say that like you think we're not going to make it or something." She looked over at him with a thin attempt at a sardonic smile, which did little to hide the look of apprehension in her eyes. "What did the Sons do that made this Jimmy guy so upset and apparently dangerous?"

"Jimmy's always been dangerous. He's a fuckin' snake in the worst sense of the word."

"But what did the Club do that's making him take a risk like this? I mean, unless he parades around threatening innocent civilians regularly."

Chibs shrugged. "He probably doesn't know whether yer just a bystander or not sweetheart. I think the only way he even knew ya were involved at all was cuz he made Fiona tell him."

"Well great. That's just...fantastic." Claire stood suddenly, chucking the cardboard cup towards the trash, though it missed by a good three feet, she started off as though she were going to walk away, but stopped and turned on her heel to face him again. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" She asked, her voice breaking, though Chibs wasn't sure whether the question was directed at him, or the universe in general. Claire raked her fingers through her hair, ending with it standing up in odd places. "What the hell am I supposed to do about _any _of this? I mean...just...why me?"

"Because he knew I'd drop everything to see ya were safe Claire."

She opened her mouth again as though to speak, but instead chose to turn around, her shoulders shivering slightly, as though she were cold, or perhaps trying to repress tears. Chibs stood, thinking perhaps to comfort her somehow, if she would let him, but before he could take more than a step towards her, Claire turned to face him again, her face once again perfectly composed.

"Let's keep going, before it gets too dark. I hate riding at night."

* * *

><p>Crossing the state line, and the remainder of the distance to Charming was equally as painful and silent as the first part of the trip. Claire just held onto Chibs silently, unsure of what she wanted to say. She had long ago lost the ability to communicate properly with him. That, and she was afraid that if she tried to have a conversation about anything, she would fall apart somehow. She wasn't going to break down, not now of all times; there was enough going on as it was without adding hysteria to the mix. Though Chibs didn't seem happy about it, he at least opted to respect it, and didn't try to force conversation on her. Or anything else. She had never imagined how painful this would be; seeing him again. She had wanted so desperately to just go flying into his arms like nothing had ever happened, but then the first thing out of his mouth was that her life was in danger, and she remembered that it was never, ever going to be as simple as it had been in the beginning, when she had been blissfully ignorant of what the Club was really like under it's public face.<p>

Still, Teller-Marrow was a comforting sight, the lights and the row of motorcycles in the drive reminding her how much of a home Charming really had become; though she did have to wonder why he had brought her here, rather than her house.

"I don't even get to stay in my own home?" She questioned, while Chibs sidled the bike into the row with the others. She slid off the back, trying her damnedest not to let her jelly-legs be too obvious. The soreness in her legs and hips had been absolute murder the last thirty miles or so though, she was surprised she hadn't just fallen off somewhere.

"I think it's safer if ya stay here fer a coupla days at least. We can watch ya better."

"Yeah, because I so totally plan to go wandering off by myself when an angry Irishman is out to get me," Claire said, a little more sarcastically then she had meant it to sound. At the very least, she had been hoping to sleep in her own bed, in her nice quiet house, but now it seemed she was delegated to staying in a Clubhouse for bikers. Brilliant. She didn't perceive herself getting a lot of sleep the next few days. He ignored her barb, which was probably for the best, and headed toward the doors. Claire followed, almost surprised when she didn't see as many people lingering around as usual. There was a blonde by the bar counter she didn't recognize, and as she passed, she caught that his patch noted him as 'Tacoma'. "You guys have got a Club in Washington too?"

"Yeah. And Oregon."

Surprised, Claire stopped for a moment, before jogging a step to catch back up to Chibs. "Then why didn't you just have the Oregon guys watch me?"

"I was the one that got ya into this, I'll be the one to get ya out." Chibs answered simply, pulling keys out of his pocket and unlocking a familiar door, opening it to his room and gesturing Claire inside. "'Sides, I wanted an excuse to see ya again."

It shouldn't have warmed her heart to know that, but it did. She stepped into the dorm room, feeling suddenly nervous, and sat awkwardly on the foot of the bed. "Where are you going to sleep?" She asked, the thought abruptly occurring to her.

His lips quirked up in a small smile. "Don't worry 'bout that sweetheart. I'm not gonna make this weird. I'm sure there's a couch somewhere I can sleep on."

"Sorry. You don't have to go through all this trouble you know; I could sleep on the couch instead."

Chibs waved his hand dismissively, leaning on the door frame. "It's fine. Ya sleep here." His voice had a note of finality to it that made Claire decide it was better not to argue, because she knew she wouldn't win.

She slipped the bag off her shoulder, and sat silently for a moment or two, her hands twisting in her lap. "So...now what?"

"Now ya just worry about keeping yer tail outta the fire. We'll take care o' Jimmy, and then ya can go back to yer life."

"But I...I don't know where my life is anymore..." Claire whispered, more to herself than him. She could sense he wanted to say something, but instead straightened off the door frame, and held the keys to the room out to her.

"Ya know where all my shit is. Make yerself at home." And with that, he turned into the hallway, and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

Claire flopped back onto the mattress staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore she was thinking of all the times she had made love in this very bed, and all the times she had looked at the very spot on the ceiling she was now, screaming something incoherent. She cheeks heated slightly, and she forced the thoughts away, rolling to her side and staring toward the bathroom door instead. Things weren't like that anymore. Still, there was no denying her feelings hadn't changed; not even in the slightest.

Instead, she tried to think of what she would do when this was over. Going back to Portland wasn't really her idea of a viable option, but Charming was...what? Charming was home, it was as simple as that. Was she really going to leave just because things had gone sour between her and Chibs? That would be childish, even she knew that. Even if she had the money now to pack up and leave, and probably live just about anywhere she wanted, she didn't really want to. She didn't want to have to find a new home, make new friends, and try to carve out a new place somewhere else. And she knew putting miles and miles between her and what had happened wouldn't make it any less significant. She was going to have to give it more thought, and for the time being, she found her mind distracted by the fact she might not even live long enough to make that decision. She was no doubt safer here, surrounded by gun-toting bikers, but still, even that wasn't a guarantee.

It wasn't bad enough Chibs had a wife he'd neglected to tell her about, now he had an old enemy who wanted to use her like a poker chip. Love and tragedy seemed to go hand in hand, even in modern times. Shakespeare would have a field day with her.

* * *

><p>It had been about three hours since he had brought Claire back, and about one since most everyone else had either wandered home or to bed. And still, he sat at the bar and wondered whether he was ever going to get passed the barrier Claire had built between them. He wasn't going to ask for another shot in the romance department, not right away anyway, but he wasn't exactly fond of being constantly pushed away by the woman who practically owned his soul either. That shit got painful real fucking fast.<p>

He heard the quiet little barefoot shuffling behind him, and knew who it was even before she sat on the stool next to him.

"Want to share that?" She questioned, nodding toward the scotch at his elbow.

"Help yerself lovely." He nudged the bottle her way, and Claire reached over the bar to dig up a glass, pouring herself a small, lady-like amount. But rather than drinking it, she merely held the glass between her hands and stared at it.

"What happened in Belfast? Is that where this started?"

"It started a long time ago. When me and Fiona first got married. I donno why, but it pissed Jimmy off, guess he musta thought I was taking something he thought was his. Shit started to go bad between us. 'Fore long, he had Fiona convinced he'd kill her, and Kerrianne, if she didn't do what he wanted. I got ex-communicated fer my trouble. Didn't exactly have time to write up papers for a divorce."

"Kerriane is your daughter?"

"Yeah. She's real sweet, gettin' to that age though." Chibs smiled fondly, forgetting for a moment that the two parts of his life were starting to clash again. Claire didn't seem to mind, swirling the scotch in her glass around.

"Did Jimmy keep them like that all this time?"

"Yeah. He did. But the shit he's pulled the last few years...the IRA knew they hadda get him gone, or risk losing the whole movement. He's here, in the states, somewhere. We made a deal we'd kill him, so the IRA would give us back Abel, and let us keep our guns."

"Abel?" Claire's voice was a gasp. "Like...like baby Abel? Why in the hell did the IRA kidnap Jax's baby?"

"It's a long story sweetheart." Chibs shook his head. Claire met this with a slightly annoyed expression.

"Does it look like I'm going anywhere Chibs?" She gestured around the Clubhouse. "We've got time, explain it to me. I want to know what's going on, all of it. So start talking to me."

Even if he had wanted to lie to her still, or at least, keep it to the bare minimum, Chibs knew it was a bad idea. In the next few days, it might not mean anything anyway. By the end of the week, either he or Jimmy would be lying dead in the streets somewhere, and if it was going to be him, he would want to at least leave Claire able to understand the choices he had made, and the choices he was going to make. After Jax's plan ran its course, he would have no reason to keep her here, and, near as Chibs could tell, she planned to get the hell back out of Charming just as soon as her life was no longer in any immediate danger. If this did end up backfiring and he wound up in prison, or, God forbid, dead, he wondered if she would even let it bother her. She had once said she would visit him in prison, but he would sincerely doubt that was the case still.

All the same, or so he reasoned, after all the shit he had dragged her through, she deserved the truth at this point.

So he told her. And Claire listened patiently and stoically.

* * *

><p>She honestly hadn't thought how much worse knowing the truth could make things. Two months ago, if Chibs had dropped her off at Gemma and Clay's house out of the blue, and told her to stay there until either she or Gemma heard otherwise, she wouldn't have known what to think. Now, she knew it was because he thought she would be safer here, under Gemma's watchful eye as the Club went about murdering Jimmy. She wished the idea disturbed her more than it did. But, considering all the things Chibs had finally told her about Jimmy, and the fact that he would probably kill her, Gemma, Tara, Abel, the baby Teller Tara was currently working on, and probably Chibs' family, she found it difficult to have any form of remorse for him.<p>

This life had never been what she wanted; it had never been something she had pictured for herself. But somehow, she kept falling into it, kept getting wrapped up in it. Was it fate? Karma? The will of God or the Universe or some other omnipotent higher power? Why didn't she get a say in it?

The shrill whistle of the tea kettle pulled Claire from her reverie, and she picked it up off the burner, pouring the water into two mugs for herself and Gemma, the other woman in the living room giving Abel his bottle. She carried the tea over, setting one near Gemma and taking the other with her to the couch, sitting gingerly for fear of spilling the steaming liquid all over Gemma's spotless carpet or couch. For a long while, there was silence other than Gemma's gentle patting on Abel's back to burp him.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way."

Claire glanced up. "What do you mean?"

"You coming back. I'm sorry it had to be like this. I would have preferred you did it of your own will."

"Maybe I never wanted to come back."

Gemma gave her a look that said she sounded as transparent as she felt. "What did I tell you baby? I'm the den mother, I know these things. You missed it here. You missed him."

Claire bit her lip. Denying it would be pointless, they both knew it would be a lie.

"You can't stay mad at Chibs forever."

"I know..." She said quietly, staring at the darkening tea in her mug. "But I can be hurt for a really, really long time."

"You're stronger than that Claire."

"No I'm not!" Her voice was louder than she intended, and quickly recoiled for fear of waking Abel up, but he seemed to be dozing soundly in his Grandma's arms. Still, she kept her voice low as she continued. "I'm just not. I can't make this work Gemma. I can't live this way. I'm not like you and Tara, I'm scared to death of what could happen. Not just to me, but to people...people I love."

"Not that long ago you wanted to be Chibs' Old Lady," Gemma reminded, standing and carrying Abel to the little playpen/bed set up in the corner of the room, laying him down and covering him up. "And just what makes you think I'm not scared shitless about what those boys are getting into right now? Jax could be..." Gemma trailed off, but she needn't fill Claire in. She's gotten the jist of what was happening in the Club yesterday. The exact same tensions from before were boiling just under the surface, old versus new, law versus anarchy. Only this time, it sounded like Jax was caught in more than just a bad set of daddy issues. It seemed, between the IRA, the Russians, and ATF, too many people had their fingers in the SAMCRO pie. Nobody knew how it was going to play out in the end, but Claire had a feeling no one was going to be happy about it.

"But I can't handle it the way you do. It doesn't matter anyway. When this is over, I'm going back home."

"And you look so thrilled about it too."

"I don't belong here Gemma."

"Here more than with people who don't even know you. When was the last time you even spoke face to face to your own mother?"

Silence fell again, more because Claire had no more arguments than anything. She knew she was kidding herself. The idea of going back to Portland made her nauseous; she would much rather stay here, go back to Redwood Estates at the end of the day, curl up in her own bed and...and what? Wake up wishing Chibs was there? As if geography made any difference on that front.

"You want to know what the hardest part was about being gone all this time?"

"What?" Gemma looked at her curiously.

"Even when I was so angry, when I thought I hated Chibs with all my heart, I never stopped loving him. Not even a little bit. I didn't know what to do. I still don't. I just want things to go back to the way they were, but they can't. They can't ever be the same." Her vision blurred, and it took her a moment to realize it was because she was crying. She had tried to lock all this inside, tried to deal with it, even though she hadn't the faintest idea how, but now she was falling apart at the seams like an old rag-doll.

"Oh, baby..." Gemma said quietly, her hands appeared in Claire's vision, taking the mug of nearly-forgotten tea, before wrapping Claire in a tender, motherly hug. "Honey, he tried so hard to make things work with you, he loved you, and we both know he still does. All you would have to do is ask him, and he'll try to make it work again, you know that don't you?"

"There's no way it will be that easy."

"Says who? You haven't even tried yet."

"It's never that simple," Claire said stubbornly, wiping a hand under her eyes. She hadn't put any make-up on since she had left Portland, but her hand still came back smeared just the tiniest bit with mascara. "Because now I know...everything. I could never be comfortable pretending like don't feel guilty about what happened, or that I don't know Fiona is his wife."

"That's in the past sweetie. He loves her, sure, but not the way he loves you. They were apart for a long time, things are different between them. I'm not saying that makes the fact that he didn't tell you the truth any better, but you shouldn't quit over something that's in the past. I mean, don't you have any old boyfriends you still feel something for?"

Claire could only shrug. There were very few people she had ever considered herself really close to, and most of those people she no longer spoke to. The sad fact was Chibs was probably the only person who had ever really gotten that close to her, the real her, and he was the only 'old boyfriend' that she felt much of anything for. An overwhelming amount of anything, but still.

"I don't know Gemma. I'm just so goddamned confused about everything. I can't even figure out what I want, let alone what I should I do."

Gemma gave Claire's head a pat, though it felt more like a bonk than something soothing. "If you don't know that, you're not listening to yourself sweetheart. People change, we fall in and out of love all the time, but sometimes it's just more than that. You're home though, that's all you need to worry about for now."

Home. The familiar, somehow comforting sounds of motorcycles in the driveway later reminded Claire just how much more 'home' this place was than Portland. Somewhere along the line, she had really grown to like the sound, perhaps because, at one point, it had been her clue that Chibs was coming back. Perhaps she had just learned to associate the sound with what had been her happiness not that long ago. Did she really belong here? She sure as hell couldn't seem to stay away.

The new prospects, who had apparently been recruited after poor Half-sack had been killed, entered the foyer, bearing what seemed to be letters for Gemma. They gave her a passing nod of respect, something she wasn't quite sure how to respond to, and the lighter-built of the two informed her that Chibs asked him to take her home. Even though Claire wanted to stay and talk with Gemma a little longer, the expression on her face as she began to read the letter told her it wasn't a good idea, so she agreed to the ride, wishing -not for the first time- that she had just brought her car down anyway. Not that she didn't like riding around on Harleys, but sometimes she missed being able to drive herself. Funny. She wondered when she had started actually enjoying motorcycle rides instead of being scared about them. Again, she suspected Chibs has something to do with it.

"Can I ask what happened?" Claire questioned, following her designated chauffeur out into the driveway. If it was alright for her to finally go home, and no longer be under Gemma's observation, she assumed that meant it had all gone according to plan. Whatever the plan had been. But she wanted details. She wanted to know that the men that had essentially become an oversized pack of brothers-better-than-her-own were okay.

"Jimmy's dead, so you should be safe now."

"But...everyone else?"

"Mostly...mostly in jail," He confessed.

"Chibs?"

"He should be getting back into town later tonight."

"I see. Uhm...can...will you ask him to come out and see me?" He gave Claire a look which she was unsure how to interpret, before nodding.

"Yeah, I can do that."

The prospect dropped her off back at Redwood Estates, and she was honestly a little surprised at how relieved she was to see it. For the comparably short time she had lived there, it had become home. She dug the keys from the bottom of her bag and stepped inside, instantly picking up on the general untidiness of her front hall. Chibs' work shirt was hanging on one of the hooks by the door, a couple pairs of his shoes tossed carelessly on the floor. Things that she didn't remember being there the night she had left. Claire stepped to the kitchen, pulling the fridge door open, and rather than the rotted food she had half-expected to find, everything seemed relatively fresh. Mostly take-out and beer. Chibs had been living here while she was gone.

She didn't know why, but it made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.

On a whim, Claire continued down the hall to her bedroom, finding it almost exactly as she had left it, minus, once again, the evidence of Chibs scattered around the room. She flopped face-first into the pillow that Chibs had always used when he slept over, finding the fact that the bed still carried the scent of both of them oddly comforting. Oddly meaningful. Maybe she was never going to get away from Charming, maybe she was never going to get away from Chibs, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to accept that this had become her life. She had claimed it was, she had fought her family tooth and nail to prove that it was. When she thought of it that way it really just seemed childish of her to try and run away when things started to get tough.

She had never stopped loving him, and she realized how much he had done to protect her along with his family. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she realized how much she wanted to fight for something, how hard she was willing to try to stay here, and stay with Chibs.

* * *

><p>It seemed oddly like deja vu to see Claire's shadow projected on the house wall by the porch light. It seemed like nothing had changed, even though everything had. Chibs realized he was dragging his feet as he approached the steps. What could she want to say now? Was she only going to tell him goodbye again? Tell him to get his shit out of her house? What he would give to know so he could prepare himself...<p>

But no matter what he had been preparing for he doubted he would have been ready for her to get off the swing, stroll up to him, and wrap her arms around his neck, clinging for what could have been dear life. It took him a second to realize it was more because she had been scared for him than because she had suddenly decided she liked him again.

"Are you okay?"

"More or less." He shrugged, and Claire dropped away as quickly as she had grabbed him.

"Sorry. I guess I was kind of...worried about you." Her hands were fiddling together nervously. "I'm sorry to drag you out here like this. But I wanted to...you know, talk a little."

"Well, that's a surprise. Ya always coulda answered the phone," Chibs said, walking a few steps toward the porch swing and settling down. He was bloody tired. The last few days, the last few weeks had really worn him out. To his utter surprise, she joined him, close enough that he was sorely tempted to touch her; he could smell a small waft of her old perfume drifting over him. Dear lord he had missed her. It seemed even more prevalent now that she was here again.

"I know," She answered quietly, her hands twisting together again, pressing them into her lap. "I'm sorry about...about a lot. But I didn't know how else to react. I didn't know how else to handle it."

"Suppose I can understand that." Chibs nodded, turning to glance at her. She was staring very intently down at her hands. "Look sweetheart, it's like I always tell ya: I can't read yer mind. Ya gotta tell me what you want me to do here."

"I don't...I don't know honestly. What I want...I guess I want things to go back to the way they were. But I know better than to it will be that easy." Claire's voice had a quiver to it, as though she might start crying at any moment.

"Yer probably right about that. A lot has changed. But, if ya wanna go, I won't stop you. Jimmy's dead, so yu'll be safe."

"Until something like this happens again."

Not having an answer for her, Chibs remained silent. She was probably right. Suddenly and unexpectedly, Claire leaned her head over, lying it softly, perhaps even hesitantly, on his shoulder. Though he didn't know what to read into it, Chibs slid his arm around her back, hooking it lightly at her waist. When you knew each other as well as they did, at least physically speaking, little shows of intimacy and trust were easy to slip back in to. Even now.

"Chibs, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did killing Jimmy change anything? I mean, with you and your family. Now that he's gone, you guys could be together again, right? So...will I be in the way if I stay?"

"Ya know...Fiona and I decided it might be best to finally go our separate ways. Fer real this time."

"Uhm...why?" She was hiding something behind the neutral tone of her voice, though he couldn't decide whether it might be hope or anger.

"We've already been apart a long-ass time sweetheart. Being together now would be weird, wouldn't feel right anymore. I'm still gonna see 'em, I still love Fiona and Kerrianne, but too much has changed. We're a family, sure, but it's just not like it used to be."

"So, what...? You're getting a divorce or something?"

"Sooner or later, probably. Once we get all that shit figured out."

"Oh." She pulled away from him as suddenly as she had leaned against him, walking to the edge of the porch. Chibs sighed. Okay, so he had known that probably wouldn't make her happy, but he had been hoping for something a little more positive, maybe even hopeful. He didn't want her to leave again. "And we're supposed to go back to playing house or something, now that you don't have to worry about me finding out your dirty little secrets anymore? That's kind of a moot point, considering you've already told me them all already."

"I know."

"What do you want Chibs?" She asked suddenly. "You've spent all this time asking me what I want, but I have no clue what you want."

"Probably cuz I don't know." Chibs answered honestly with a shrug. "I love ya, and that's all I really know fer sure. Maybe I fucked it up and ya don't feel the same about me anymore, but I was hoping...I dunno. I'm willing to start at the beginning again, if yu'll let me. I'm willing to start all over if ya want. I can earn yer trust again."

"I want to stay in Charming." Was the only response Claire gave him for a moment. "I don't know...I don't know if I'm ready to start over yet. But I want to. I really, really want to."

"I can wait for ya. Like I said, I'll do everything over if ya want me to. I just want a shot at winnin' ya back."

"Call me crazy, I think you just did a little bit." Her smile was small, but there was something promising, something sincere in it. It almost made him want to dance through the streets of Charming.

The Club was in jail, the Russians were pissed, and who knew how long it would be before the ATF was back on their collective asses, but, at least for the time being, Chibs had his Old Lady back, and that was something worth being happy for.

-Fin.


End file.
